THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


1  What's  that !'  howled  the  little  professor,  dancing  about  in  his  night  robe.' 
(See  page  ion) 


Frank  Merriwell  Down  South 


BY 


BURT  L.  STANDISH/^&eW'» 

AUTHOR  OF 

"  Frank  Merriwell's  School-Days,'1   "  Frank  Merriwell's  Chums," 
"  Frank  Merriwell's  Foes,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID   McKAY,   PUBLISHER 
604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 


Copyright,  1905 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 


Fra»k  MerriweU  Down  South 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I — A  Wonderful  Story 7 

II— Gone 13 

III— Held  for  Ransom 19 

IV — Unmasked 27 

V— Kidnaped 31 

VI— Carried  into  the  Mountains     ...  37 

VII — The  Camp  in  the  Desert      ....  42 

VIII — The  Treasure  Seeker       ....  46 

IX — The  Professor's  Escape        .        .        .        .51 

X— The  Stranger 57 

XI — The  Awakening  Volcano    ....  62 

XII— Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace       ...  68 

XIII— A  Stampede  in  a  City         ....  75 

XIV— The  Hot  Blood  of  Youth        ...  80 

XV — Mystery  of  the  Flower  Queen    ...  85 

XVI— Professor  Scotch  Feels  111        ...  90 

XVII— Led  into  a  Trap 95 

XVIII — Barney  on  Hand 100 

XIX — A  Humble  Apology 106 

XX — The  Professor's  Courage         .        .        .  1 1 1 

XXI— Frank's  Bold  Move 1 16 

XXII — The  Queen  is  Found      ....  121 

XXIII— Fighting  Lads 127 


2035360 


fi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

XXIV — End  of  the  Search          .        .        .        .132 

•XXV — The  Mysterious  Canoe      .        .        .         138 

XXVI — Still  More  Mysterious    .        .        .        .144 

XXVII — In  the  Everglades      .        .        .        .          149 

XXVIII— The  Hut  on  the  Island  .        .        .        .155 

XXIX— A  Wild  Night  in  the  Swamp    .        .         160 

XXX — Frank's  Shot 165 

XXXI — Young  in  Years  Only        .        .        .         170 

XXXII — A  Mysterious  Transformation        .        .177 

XXXIII— Gage  Takes  a  Turn  .        .        .        .         181 

XXXIV— A  Fearful  Fate       .        .        .        .        .     186 

XXXV— The  Serpent  Vine      ....          192 

XXXVI— Right  or  Wrong 196 

XXXVII— Frank's  Mercy 200 

XXXVIII — In  the  Mountains  Again        .        .        .    206 
XXXIX— Frank  and  Kate         .        .        .        .         212 

XL — A  Jealous  Lover 218 

XLI — Facing  Death 222 

XL1I — Muriel 228 

XLIII — Saved! 240 

XLIV — Frank's  Suspicion .        .        .        .        .    248 

XLV— The  Greatest  Peril    ....         257 

XLVI— The  Mystery  of  Muriel .        .        .        .263 


Frank  Merriwell  Down  South. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  WONDERFUL  STORY. 

"It  is  in  the  heart  of  the  Sierra  Madre  range,  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty-five  miles  west  of  Zacatecas,"  said  the 
dying  man.  "Across  the  blue  chasm  you  can  see  its 
towers  and  turrets  glistening  in  the  sunshine.  It  is  like 
a  beautiful  dream — dazzling,  astounding,  grand !" 

"He  wanders  in  his  mind,"  softly  declared  Professor 
Scotch.  "Poor  fellow!  His  brain  was  turned  and  he 
was  brought  to  his  death  by  his  fruitless  search  for  the 
mythical  Silver  Palace." 

The  man  who  lay  on  a  bed  of  grass  in  one  corner  of 
the  wretched  adobe  hut  turned  a  reproachful  look  on  the 
little  professor. 

"You  are  wrong,"  he  asserted,  in  a  voice  that  seemed  to 
have  gained  strength  for  the  moment.  "I  am  not  de 
ranged — I  am  not  deceived  by  an  hallucination.  With  my 
eyes  I  have  seen  the  wonderful  Silver  Palace — yes,  more 
than  that,  I  have  stood  within  the  palace  and  beheld  the 
marvelous  treasures  which  it  contains." 

The  professor  turned  away  to  hide  the  look  on  his  face, 
but  Frank  Merriwell,  deeply  interested,  bent  over  the  un 
fortunate  man,  asking : 

"By  what  route  can  this  wonderful  palace  be  reached?" 

"There  is  no  route.  Between  us  and  the  Silver  Palace 
lie  waterless  deserts,  great  mountains,  and,  at  last,  a 
yawning  chasm,  miles  in  width,  miles  in  depth.  This 
chasm  extends  entirely  round  the  broad  plateau  on  which 
the  wonderful  palace  stands  like  a  dazzling  dream.  The 


8  A  Wonderful  Story. 

bottom  of  the  chasm  is  hidden  by  mists  which  assume 
fantastic  forms,  and  whirl  and  sway  and  dash  forward 
and  backward,  like  battling  armies.  Indians  fear  the 
place;  Mexicans  hold  it  in  superstitious  horror.  It  is 
said  that  these  mist-like  forms  are  the  ghosts  of  warriors 
dead  and  gone,  a  wonderful  people  who  built  the  Silver 
Palace  in  the  days  of  Cortez — built  it  where  the  Spaniard 
could  not  reach  and  despoil  it." 

Despite  his  doubts,  the  professor  was  listening  with 
strong  interest  to  this  remarkable  tale. 

The  fourth  person  in  the  hut  was  the  Dutch  boy,  Hans 
Dunnerwust,  who  sat  on  the  ground,  his  back  against  the 
wall,  his  jaw  dropped  and  his  eyes  bulging.  Occasionally, 
as  he  listened  to  the  words  of  the  dying  man,  he  would 
mutter : 

"Chimminy  Gristmas !" 

For  several  weeks  Frank  Merriwell,  our  hero,  Hans, 
his  chum,  and  Professor  Scotch,  his  guardian,  had  been 
exploring  the  country  around  the  city  of  Mendoza,  Mex 
ico.  They  had  come  to  Mexico  after  having  numerous 
adventures  in  our  own  country,  as  related  in  "Frank  Mer 
riwell  Out  West,"  a  former  volume  of  this  series. 

Only  a  short  hour  before  they  had  run  across  the  suf 
ferer,  whose  head  seemed  so  full  of  the  things  he  had  seen 
at  what  he  called  the  Silver  Palace.  They  had  found  him 
almost  dead  in  a  hut  at  the  edge  of  a  sandy  plain,  suffer 
ing  great  pain  and  calling  loudly  for  aid.  They  had  done 
what  they  could,  and  then  he  had  begun  to  talk,  as  related 
above. 

With  surprising  strength  the  man  on  the  bed  of  grass 
sat  up,  stretching  out  his  hands,  gazing  across  the  sunlit 
sand-plain  beyond  the  open  door  of  the  hut,  and  went  on : 

"I  see  it  now — I  see  it  once  again !  There,  there — see 
it  gleaming  like  a  dazzling  diamond  in  the  sunshine !  See 
its  beautiful  towers  and  turrets!  That  dome  is  of  pure 
gold !  Within  those  walls  are  treasures  untold !  There 
are  great  vaults  of  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  bars  and 
ingots !  There  are  precious  stones  in  profusion !  And  all 
this  treasure  would  make  a  thousand  men  rich  for  life! 
But  it's  not  for  me — it's  lost  to  me  forever!" 

With  a  stifled  moan,  he  fell  back  into  Frank's  arms, 
and  was  lowered  on  the  bed  of  grass. 


A  Wonderful  Story.  9 

Professor  Scotch  hastily  felt  the  man's  pulse,  listened 
for  the  beating  of  his  heart,  and  then  cried: 

"Quick,  Frank — the  brandy!  It  may  be  too  late,  but 
we'll  try  to  give  him  a  few  more  minutes  of  life." 

"That's  right !"  palpitated  Frank.  "Bring  him  back  to 
consciousness,  for  we  have  not  yet  learned  how  to  reach 
the  Silver  Palace." 

"There  is  no  such  place  as  the  Silver  Palace,"  sharply 
declared  the  professor,  as  he  forced  a  few  drops  of  brandy 
between  the  lips  of  the  unfortunate  man.  "The  fellow  has 
dreamed  it." 

"Perhaps." 

"Perhaps !  Why,  Frank,  I  took  you  for  a  boy  of  more 
sense !  Think — think  of  the  absurdity !  It  is  impossible !'* 

"It  may  be." 

"I  know  it  is." 

"Veil,  maype  you  don'd  nefer  peen  misdooken,  brofes- 
sor  ?"  insinuated  Hans,  recovering  for  a  moment  from  his 
dazed  condition. 

The  professor  did  not  notice  the  Dutch  boy's  words, 
for  the  man  on  the  bed  of  grass  drew  a  long,  fluttering 
breath  and  slowly  opened  his  eyes. 

"I  thought  I  saw  the  palace  once  more,"  he  whispered. 
"It  was  all  a  delusion." 

"That  is  true,"  nodded  the  professor,  "it  is  all  a  delu 
sion.  Such  a  place  as  this  Silver  Palace  is  an  absurd 
impossibility.  The  illness  through  which  you  have  passed 
has  affected  your  mind,  and  you  dreamed  of  the  palace." 

"It  is  not  so!"  returned  the  man,  reproachfully.  "I 
have  proof !  You  doubt  me — you  will  not  believe  ?" 

"Be  calm — be  quiet,"  urged  the  professor.  "This  ex 
citement  will  cut  your  life  short  by  minutes,  and  minutes 
are  precious  to  you  now." 

"That  is  true ;  minutes  are  precious,"  hastily  whispered 
the  man.  "It  is  not  the  fever  I  am  dying  of — no,  no! 
The  water  from  the  spring  you  may  see  behind  the  hut — 
it  has  destroyed  many  people.  This  morning,  before  you 
came,  a  peon  found  me  here.  He  told  me — he  said  the 
spring  was  poison.  The  water  robs  men  of  strength — of 
life.  I  could  not  understand  him  well.  He  went  away 
and  left  me.  I  could  see  him  running  across  the  desert, 
as  if  from  a  plague.  And  now  I  am  dying — dying!" 


lo  A  Wonderful  Story. 

"But  the  Silver  Palace?"  observed  Frank  Merriwell. 
"You  are  forgetting  that." 

"Yah,"  nodded  the  Dutch  lad;  "you  peen  forgetting 
dot,  ain'did?" 

"The  proof,"  urged  Frank.  "You  say  you  have  proof." 

"Yah,"  put  in  Hans ;  "you  say  you  haf  der  broof.  Vere 
id  peen?" 

"It  is  here,"  declared  the  unfortunate,  as  he  fumbled 
beneath  the  straw.  "You  are  my  countrymen — you  have 
been  kind  to  me.  Alwin  Bushnell  may  never  return.  It 
is  terrible  to  think  all  that  treasure  may  be  lost — lost  for 
ever  !" 

"Who  is  Alwin  Bushnell?" 

"My  partner — the  one  who  was  with  me  when  I  found 
the  palace." 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"Heaven  knows!    He  went  for  another  balloon." 

"Another  balloon?" 

"Yes ;  it  was  with  the  aid  of  a  balloon  that  we  reached 
the  Silver  Palace.  Without  it  we  could  not  have  crossed 
the  gulf." 

"Absurd!"  muttered  the  professor. 

Despite  the  fact  that  the  word  was  merely  murmured, 
the  miserable  man  on  the  bed  of  grass  did  not  fail  to  catch 
it 

"Oh,  I  will  convince  even  you !"  he  exclaimed,  gasping 
for  breath,  and  continuing  to  fumble  beneath  the  straw. 
"You  shall  see — you  shall  know !  But  our  balloon — we 
had  no  means  of  obtaining  a  further  supply  of  gas.  It 
was  barely  sufficient  to  take  us  across  the  gulf,  with  a  few 
pieces  of  treasure.  We  struck  against  the  side  of  the  bluff 
— we  were  falling  back  into  the  abyss !  Barely  were  we 
able  to  scramble  out  of  the  car  and  cling  to  the  rocks. 
Then  we  saw  the  balloon  rise  a  little,  like  a  bird  freed 
of  burden ;  but  it  suddenly  collapsed,  fluttered  downward, 
and  the  mists  leaped  up  and  clutched  it  like  a  thousand 
exulting  demons,  dragging  it  down  from  our  sight.  We 
crawled  up  from  the  rocks,  but  it  was  a  close  call — a  close 
call." 

He  lay  exhausted,  his  eyes  closed,  his  hand  ceasing  to 
fumble  beneath  the  straw.  Once  more  Professor  Scotch 
gave  him  a  little  of  the  brandy. 


A  Wonderful  Story.  1 1 

Frank  Merriwell  was  more  than  interested;  he  could 
feel  his  heart  trembling  with  excitement.  Something 
seemed  to  tell  him  that  this  man  was  speaking  the  truth, 
and  he  was  eager  to  hear  more. 

For  a  long  time  the  unfortunate  lay  gasping  painfully 
for  breath,  but,  at  last,  he  was  easier.  He  opened  his 
eyes,  and  saw  Frank  watching  him  steadily,  with  an 
anxious  expression. 

"Ah!"  he  murmured,  exultantly,  "you  believe  me — 
you  do  not  doubt !  I  must  tell  you  everything.  You  shall 
be  Jack  Burk's  heir.  Think  of  it — heir  to  wealth  enough 
to  make  you  richer  than  Monte  Cristo!  Witness — wit 
ness  that  I  make  this  boy  my  heir !" 

He  turned  to  the  professor  and  Hans,  and  both  bowed, 
the  former  saying: 

"We  are  witnesses." 

"Good!  We  escaped  with  our  lives,  but  we  brought 
little  of  the  treasure  with  us.  I  was  determined  to  find 
the  way  back  there,  and  I  made  a  map.  See,  here  it  is." 

He  thrust  a  soiled  and  crumpled  piece  of  paper  into 
Frank's  hand,  and  the  boy  saw  there  were  lines  and  writ 
ing  on  it. 

"How  we  found  our  way  out  of  the  mountains,  how  we 
endured  the  heat  of  the  desert  I  cannot  tell,"  went  on  the 
weak  voice  of  the  man  on  the  bed  of  straw.  "We  reached 
Zacatecas,  and  then  Bushnell  went  for  another  balloon. 
He  knows  friends  who  have  money  and  power,  and  he 
will  get  the  balloon — if  he  lives." 

"But  the  proof — the  proof  that  you  were  going  to 
show  us?" 

"It  is  here!    Look!" 

From  beneath  the  straw  Jack  Burk  drew  forth  a  queer 
little  figure  of  solid  gold — a  figure  like  the  pictures  of 
Aztec  gods,  which  Frank  had  seen. 

"This  is  proof !"  declared  the  man.  "It  is  some  of  the 
treasure  we  brought  from  the  palace.  Bushnell  took  the 
rest." 

The  professor  excitedly  grasped  the  little  image,  and 
gazed  searchingiy  at  it. 

"It  is  all  right — it  is  genuine !"  he  finally  exclaimed. 

"Of  course  it  is  genuine,"  said  the  man  on  the  bed  of 
grass.  "And  there  are  more  in  the  Silver  Palace.  There 


12  A  Wonderful  Story. 

the  treasures  of  the  Aztecs  were  hidden,  and  they  have  re 
mained.  The  country  all  around  is  full  of  fierce  natives, 
who  hold  the  palace  in  awe  and  prevent  others  from  reach 
ing  it.  They  have  kept  the  secret  well,  but " 

"Vot  vos  dot?"  interrupted  Hans. 

At  some  distance  on  the  plain  outside  the  hut  were 
wildly  galloping  horses,  for  they  could  hear  hoof-beats 
and  loud  cries.  Then  came  a  fusillade  of  pistol  shots! 


CHAPTER  II. 

GONE. 

"Bandits !"  cried  Jack  Burk.    "It  may  be  Pacheco !" 

"Pacheco?"  questioned  Frank. 

"Pacheo,  the  human  hawk!  He  haunts  the  moun 
tains  and  the  desert.  He  pursued  us  across  the  desert, 
but  we  escaped  him.  I  have  been  in  hiding  here  to  avoid 
him.  He  believes  we  brought  much  treasure  from  the 
mountains." 

The  professor  had  leaped  to  the  door,  and  was  looking 
away  on  the  plain.  Now  he  cried,  excitedly : 

"Look  here!  A  band  of  horsemen  pursuing  a  white 
man — plainly  an  American.  Look,  he  is  shooting  again !" 

Once  more  the  shots  were  heard. 

Frank  ran  to  the  door,  catching  up  a  rifle  that  had  been 
leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  hut,  for  he  knew  he  was 
in  a  "bad  man's  land." 

"Stand  aside!"  he  shouted,  forcing  his  way  past  the 
professor.  "No  countryman  of  mine  can  be  in  danger 
that  I  do  not  try  to  give  him  a  helping  hand." 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  ?" 

"Get  a  crack  at  those  Greasers." 

"You  are  crazy !  You  will  bring  the  entire  band  down 
on  us !" 

"Let  'em  come!  One  Yankee  is  good  for  six  Greas 
ers." 

Past  the  hut  at  a  distance  a  single  horseman  was  riding, 
hotly  spurring  the  animal  which  bore  him.  At  least  a 
dozen  dark-faced,  fierce-looking  ruffians,  mounted  on 
hardy  little  ponies,  were  in  pursuit. 

As  Professor  Scotch  had  said,  the  fugitive  was  plainly 
an  American,  a  native  of  the  United  States.  He  had 
turned  in  the  saddle  to  send  bullets  whistling  back  at  his 
pursuers. 

Frank  ran  out  and  dropped  on  one  knee.  The  pro 
fessor  followed  him,  and  Hans  came  from  the  hut. 

Just  as  Frank  lifted  the  rifle  to  his  shoulder  and  was 


14  Gone. 

on  the  point  of  shooting,  the  voice  of  Jack  Burk  sounded 
from  the  doorway,  to  which  he  had  dragged  himself : 

"It  is  Bushnell,  my  partner!     Al !  Al !  Al  Bushnell !" 

His  voice  was  faint  and  weak,  and  it  did  not  reach  the 
ears  of  the  man  out  on  the  plain. 

Then  Frank  began  shooting,  and  his  first  bullet  brought 
down  one  of  the  ponies  of  the  pursuers,  sending  a  bandit 
rolling  over  and  over  in  the  dust,  to  leap  up  like  a  cat,  and 
spring  behind  a  comrade  on  the  back  of  another  pony. 

"Dot  peen  britty  goot,  Vrankie,"  complimented  Hans 
Dunnerwust. 

Again  and  again  Frank  fired,  and  the  bandits  quickly 
swerved  away  from  the  hut,  feeling  their  ponies  sway  or 
fall  beneath  them. 

In  an  astonishingly  brief  space  of  time  the  course  of 
pursuit  was  deflected,  giving  the  fugitive  a  chance  to  get 
away  into  Mendoza,  which  lay  at  a  distance  of  about  three 
miles  from  the  hut. 

The  man  in  flight  heard  the  shots,  saw  the  figures  in 
front  of  the  hut,  and  waved  his  hand  to  them. 

The  professor  excitedly  beckoned  for  Bushnell  to  come 
to  the  hut,  but  the  horseman  did  not  seem  to  understand, 
and  he  kept  straight  on  toward  the  town. 

"Confound  him !"  exploded  the  professor.  "Why  didn't 
he  come?" 

"He  don'd  like  a  trap  to  run  into,"  said  Hans. 

"But  there  is  no  trap  here." 

"How  he  known  dot  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  as  I  blame  him.  Of  course  he 
could  not  be  sure  it  was  not  a  trap,  and  so  he  was 
cautious." 

Frank  was  calmly  refilling  the  magazine  of  the  rifle 
with  fresh  cartridges. 

"Why  you  didn't  shoot  some  uf  der  pandits  deat, 
Vrankie?"  asked  Hans. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  shed  human  blood  if  I  can  avoid  it." 

"You  don't  done  dot  uf  you  shoot  six  or  elefen  uf  dose 
togs." 

"Oh,  they  are  human  beings." 

"Don't  you  belief  me?     Dey  vos  volves — kiotes." 

"Well,  I  did  not  care  to  shoot  them  if  I  could  aid  the 


Gone.  15 

man  in  any  other  way,  and  I  succeeded.  See,  they  have 
given  up  the  pursuit,  and  the  fugitive  is  far  away  in  that 
little  cloud  of  dust." 

"Frank !" 

"Yes,  professor." 

"We  should  follow  him,  and  bring  him  back  to  his 
dying  partner." 

"And  leave  Jack  Burk  here  alone — possibly  to  die 
alone?" 

"We  can't  do  that." 

"Of  course  not." 

"What  then?" 

"We'll  have  to  consider  the  matter.  But  Burk- 

Look — see  there,  professor !  He  is  flat  on  his  face  in  the 
doorway!  He  fell  like  that  after  trying  to  shout  to  his 
partner." 

Frank  leaped  forward,  and  turned  the  man  on  his  back. 
It  was  a  drawn,  ghastly  face  that  the  trio  gazed  down 
upon. 

Professor  Scotch  quickly  knelt  beside  the  motionless 
form,  feeling  for  the  pulse,  and  then  shaking  his  head 
gravely. 

"What  is  it  ?"  anxiously  asked  Frank.    "Has  he " 

He  was  silent  at  a  motion  from  the  professor,  who  bent 
to  listen  for  some  movement«of  the  man's  heart. 

After  a  few  seconds,  Professor  Scotch  straightened  up, 
and  solemnly  declared : 

"This  is  the  end  for  him.    We  can  do  nothing  more." 

"He  is  dead?" 

"Yes." 

There  was  an  awed  hush. 

"Now  we  can  leave  him,"  the  professor  finally  said. 
"Pacheco,  the  bandit,  cannot  harm  him  now." 

They  lifted  the  body  and  bore  it  back  to  the  wretched 
bed  of  straw,  on  which  they  tenderly  placed  it. 

"The  idol — the  golden  image?"  said  the  professor. 
"You  must  not  forget  that,  Frank.  You  have  it  ?" 

"Little  danger  that  I  shall  forget  it.  It  is  here,  where 
it  fell  from  my  fingers  as  I  ran  out." 

He  picked  up  the  image,  and  placed  it  in  one  of  his 
pockets. 


16  Gone. 

Then,  having  covered  the  face  of  Jack  Burk  with  his 
handkerchief,  Frank  led  the  way  from  the  hut. 

Their  horses  had  been  tethered  near  at  hand,  and  they 
were  soon  mounted  and  riding  away  toward  Mendoza. 

The  sun  beat  down  hotly  on  the  plain  of  white  sand, 
and  the  sky  was  of  a  bright  blue,  such  as  Frank  had  never 
seen  elsewhere. 

Outside  Mendoza  was  a  narrow  canal,  but  a  few  feet  in 
width,  and  half  filled  'with  water,  from  which  rose  little 
whiffs  of  hot  steam. 

Along  the  side  of  the  canal  was  a  staggering  rude  stone 
wall,  fringed  with  bushes  in  strips  and  clumps. 

Beyond  the  canal,  which  fixed  the  boundary  of  the 
plain  of  sand,  through  vistas  of  tree  trunks,  could  be  seem 
glimpses  of  brown  fields,  fading  away  into  pale  pink, 
violet,  and  green. 

The  dome  and  towers  of  a  church  rose  against  the  dim 
blue;  low  down,  and  on  every  side  were  spots  of  cream- 
white,  red,  and  yellow,  with  patches  of  dark  green  inter 
vening,  revealing  bits  of  the  town,  with  orange  groves  all 
about. 

Across  the  fields  ran  a  road  that  was  ankle  deep  with 
dust,  and  along  the  road  a  string  of  burros,  loaded  with 
great  bundles  of  green  fodder,  were  crawling  into  the 
town. 

An  undulating  mass  of  yellow  dust  finally  revealed  itself 
as  a  drove  of  sheep,  urged  along  by  peons,  appeared. 

Groups  of  natives  were  strolling  in  both  directions, 
seeking  the  shadows  along  the  canal.  The  women  were 
in  straw  hats,  with  their  black  hair  plaited,  and  little  chil 
dren  strung  to  their  backs;  the  men  wore  scrapes  and 
sandals,  and  smoked  cigarettes. 

Along  the  side  of  the  canal  were  scattered  scores  of 
natives  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes,  lolling  beneath  the 
bushes  or  soaking  their  bodies  in  the  water,  while  their 
heads  rested  on  the  ground. 

Those  stretched  in  the  shadow  of  the  bushes  had  taken 
their  bath,  and  were  waiting  for  their  bodies  to  dry,  cov 
ered  simply  by  scrapes. 

From  beneath  such  a  covering  dark-eyed  native  girls 


Gone.  17 

stared  curiously  at  the  passing  trio,  causing  Hans  no  small 
amount  of  confusion. 

"I  say,  Vrankie,"  said  the  Dutch  boy,  "vot  you  dinks 
apoudt  dot  pusiness  uf  dakin'  a  path  in  bublic  mit  der 
roadt  beside  ?" 

"It  seems  to  be  the  custom  of  the  country,"  smiled 
Frank ;  "and  they  do  not  seem  to  think  it  at  all  improper." 

"Veil,  somepody  better  toldt  dem  to  stob  id.  Id  keeps 
mein  plood  mein  face  in  so  much  dot  I  shall  look  like 
you  hat  peen  drinking." 

"They  think  nothing  of  it,"  explained  the  professor. 
"You  will  notice  with  what  deftness  they  disrobe,  slipping 
out  of  their  clothes  and  into  the  water  without  exposing 
much  more  than  a  bare  toe." 

"Oxcuse  you!"  fluttered  Hans.  "I  don'd  like  to  took 
mein  chances  py  looking.  Somepody  mighd  make  a  mis- 
dake." 

The  sun  was  low  down  as  they  rode  into  the  town. 

"We  have  no  time  to  lose,"  said  Frank.  "We  must 
move  lively,  if  we  mean  to  return  to  the  hut  before  night 
fall." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Professor  Scotch. 

They  were  successful  in  finding  a  native  undertaker,  but 
the  fellow  was  very  lazy,  and  he  did  not  want  to  do  any 
thing  till  the  next  day. 

"To-morrow,  senors,  to-morrow,"  he  said. 

That  did  not  satisfy,  however,  and  he  was  soon  aroused 
by  the  sight  of  money.  Learning  where  the  corpse  was, 
he  procured  a  cart  and  a  burro,  and  they  again  set  out 
along  the  road. 

They  found  whole  families  soaking  in  groups  in  the 
canal,  sousing  their  babies  in  the  water,  and  draining  them 
on  the  bank. 

Young  Indian  girls  in  groups  were  combing  out  their 
hair  and  chatting  merrily  among  themselves  and  with 
friends  in  the  water. 

"Dere  oughter  peen  some  law  for  dot,"  muttered  Hans. 

Leaving  the  canal,  they  set  out  upon  the  sand-plain,  the 
undertaker's  burro  crawling  along  at  an  aggravating  pace, 
its  master  refusing  to  whip  it  up,  despite  urging. 


i8  Gone. 

The  sun  had  set,  and  darkness  was  settling  in  a  blue 
haze  on  the  plain  when  the  hut  was  reached. 

Frank  lighted  a  pocket  lamp  he  always  carried,  and  en 
tered. 

A  cry  of  astonishment  broke  from  his  lips. 

"Professor !  professor !"  he  called ;  "the  body  is  gone !" 


CHAPTER  III. 

HELD    FOR    RANSOM. 

Gone!" 

The  professor  was  astonished. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!  I  don'd  toldt  you  dot!"  came 
from  Hans  Dunnerwust. 

"Yes,  gone,"  repeated  Frank,  throwing  the  light  about 
the  room  and  finally  bringing  it  back  to  the  bed  of  grass. 

"But — but  it's  impossible." 

"Impossible  or  not,  it  is  true,  as  you  may  see." 

"But  the  man  was  dead — as  dead  as  he  could  be !" 

"Yah !"  snorted  Hans.  "Py  shingoes !  dot  peen  der 
trute.  Dot  man  vos  teader  as  a  goffin  nail,  und  don'd  you 
vorget  him !" 

The  trio  were  silent,  staring  in  stupefied  amazement  at 
the  bed  of  grass. 

An  uncanny  feeling  began  to  creep  over  Frank,  and 
it  seemed  that  a  chill  hand  touched  his  face  and  played 
about  his  temples. 

Hans'  teeth  began  to  chatter. 

"I  am  quite  ill,"  the  professor  faintly  declared,  in  a 
feeble  tone  of  voice.  "The  exertions  of  the  day  have  been 
far  too  severe  for  me." 

"Yah,  yah !"  gurgled  the  Dutch  lad.  "You  vos  anodder. 
Oxcuse  me  while  I  go  oudt  to  ged  a  liddle  fresh  air." 

He  made  a  bolt  for  the  open  door,  and  Professor  Scotch 
was  not  long  in  following.  Frank,  however,  was  deter 
mined  to  be  thoroughly  satisfied,  and  he  again  began  look 
ing  for  the  body  of  the  dead  man,  once  more  going  over 
the  entire  hut. 

"The  body  is  gone,  beyond  a  doubt,"  he  finally  mut 
tered. 

"There  is  no  place  for  it  to  be  concealed  here,  and  dead 
men  do  not  hide  themselves." 

He  went  out,  and  found  Professor  Scotch  and  Hans 
awaiting  his  appearance  with  no  small  amount  of  anxiety. 


20  Held  for  Ransom. 

"Ah !"  said  the  professor,  with  a  deep  breath  of  relief, 
"you  are  all  right." 

"All  right,"  said  Frank,  with  amusement ;  "of  course  I 
am.  What  did  you  think  ?  Fancy  I  was  going  to  be  spir 
ited  away  by  spooks?" 

The  little  man  drew  himself  up  with  an  assumption  of 
great  dignity. 

"Young  man,"  he  rumbled,  in  his  deepest  tone,  "don't 
be  frivolous  on  such  an  occasion  as  this.  You  are  quite 
aware  that  I  do  not  believe  in  spooks  or  anything  of  the 
sort;  but  we  are  in  a  strange  country  now,  and  strange 
things  happen  here." 

"Yah,"  nodded  Hans.    "Dot  peen  exactly  righdt." 

"For  instance,  the  disappearance  of  that  corpse  is  most 
remarkable." 

"Dot  peen  der  first  dime  I  nefer  known  a  deat  man  to 
ged  ub  un  valk  avay  all  alone  mit  himseluf  by,"  declared 
Hans. 

"What  do  you  think  has  happened  here,  professor?" 
asked  Frank. 

"It  is  plain  Jack  Burk's  body  is  gone." 

"Sure  enough." 

"And  does  it  not  seem  reasonable  that  he  walked  away 
himself?" 

"Veil,  you  don'd  know  apout  dot,"  broke  in  Hans. 
"Maype  he  don'd  pelief  we  vos  goin'  pack  here  to  bury 
him,  und  he  got  tiret  uf  vaiting  for  der  funerals." 

"There  must  have  been  other  people  here  after  we  left," 
said  Frank. 

"Right,"  nodded  the  professor. 

"Bandits?" 

"Bushnell?" 

"One  or  the  other." 

"Perhaps  both." 

Frank  fell  to  examining  the  ground  for  "signs,"  but, 
although  his  eyes  were  unusually  keen,  he  was  not  an  ex 
pert  in  such  matters,  and  he  discovered  nothing  that  could 
serve  as  a  revelation. 

"The  man  was  dead  beyond  a  doubt,  professor — you  are 
sure?" 

"Sure?"  roared  the  little  man,  bristling  in  a  moment. 


Held  for  Ransom.  21 

"Of  course  I'm  sure!     Do  you  take  me  for  a  howling 
idiot?" 

"Don't  get  excited,  professor.  The  best  of  us  are  liable 
to  err  at  times.  It  would  not  be  strange  if  you " 

"But  I  didn't— I  tell  you  I  didn't !  The  body  may  have 
been  removed  by  the  bandits  which  hang  about  this  sec 
tion." 

"Or  by  Al  Bushnell,  Burk's  partner." 

"Yes;  Bushnell  may  have  recognized  him,  although  he 
did  not  seem  to  do  so.  In  that  case,  he  has  been  here " 

"And  that  explains  everything." 

"Everything." 

"He  took  the  body  away  to  give  it  decent  burial." 

"And  we  have  had  our  trouble  for  nothing." 

By  this  time  the  native  undertaker  got  the  drift  of  the 
talk,  and  set  up  a  wail  of  lamentation  and  accusation.  He 
had  come  all  that  distance  at  great  expense  to  himself  and 
great  waste  of  time  during  which  he  might  have  been 
sleeping  or  smoking.  It  was  robbery,  robbery,  robbery. 
It  was  like  the  Americano es.  He  had  a  wife  and  many — 
very  many  children  depending  on  him.  ,  He  had  been 
tricked  by  the  Americanoes,  and  he  would  complain  that 
he  had  been  cheated.  They  should  be  arrested;  they 
should  be  compelled  to  pay. 

"Oh,  come  your  perch  off,  und  gone  took  a  fall  to 
yournseluf!"  cried  Hans,  in  disgust.  "You  gif  me  der 
lifer  gomblaint !" 

The  native  continued  to  wail  and  lament  and  accuse 
them  until  Frank  succeeded  in  quieting  him  by  paying  him 
three  times  as  much  as  he  would  have  asked  had  the  body 
been  found  in  the  hut.  The  old  fellow  saw  how  he  could 
make  it  appear  as  a  clean  case  of  deception  on  the  part  of 
the  strangers,  and  he  worked  his  little  game  for  all  there 
was  in  it.  Having  received  his  money,  he  lost  no  time  in 
turning  his  cart  about  and  heading  back  toward  Mendoza, 
evidently  fearing  the  body  might  be  found  at  last  and 
forced  upon  him. 

"We'd  better  be  going,  too,"  said  Professor  Scotch. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Frank.  "There  is  no  telling 
what  danger  we  may  encounter  on  the  plain  after  night 
fall." 


22  Held  for  Ransom. 

"Veil,  don'd  let  us  peen  all  nighd  apout  gedding  a  mofe 
on,"  fluttered- Hans,  hastening  toward  the  horses. 

So  they  mounted  and  rode  away  toward  Mendoza,  al 
though  Frank  was  far  from  satisfied  to  do  so  without 
solving  the  mystery  of  the  remarkable  disappearance. 

Darkness  was  falling  heavily  on  the  plain,  across  which 
a  cool  and  refreshing  breath  came  from  the  distant  moun 
tains. 

Frank  kept  his  eyes  open  for  danger,  more  than  half 
expecting  to  run  upon  a  gang  of  bandits  at  any  moment. 
As  they  approached  the  town  they  began  to  breathe  easier, 
and,  before  long,  they  were  riding  along  the  dusty  road 
that  led  into  the  little  town. 

Entering  Mendoza  they  found  on  each  hand  low  build 
ings  connected  by  long,  white  adobe  walls,  against  which 
grew  prickly  pears  in  abundance,  running  in  straggling 
lines  away  out  upon  the  open  country. 

About  the  edges  of  the  town  were  little  fires,  winking 
redly  here  and  there,  with  earthen  pots  which  were  bal 
anced  on  smoldering  embers  raked  out  from  the  general 
mass. 

Withered  and  skinny  old  hags  were  crooning  over  the 
pots,  surrounded  by  swarthy  children  and  lazy  men,  who 
were  watching  the  preparation  of  the  evening  meal. 

Groups  of  peons,  muffled  to  the  eyes  with  their  scrapes, 
were  sitting  with  their  backs  to  the  adobe  walls,  appar 
ently  fast  asleep;  but  Frank  noted  that  glittering,  black 
eyes  peered  out  from  between  the  scrapes  and  the  huts, 
and  he  had  no  doubt  but  that  many  of  the  fellows  would 
willingly  cut  a  throat  for  a  ridiculously  small  sum  of 
money. 

Within  the  town  it  was  different.  All  day  the  window 
shutters  had  been  closely  barred,  but  now  they  were  flung 
wide,  and  the  flash  of  dark  eyes  or  the  low,  musical  laugh 
of  a  senorita  told  that  the  maidens  who  had  lolled  all  the 
hot  day  were  now  astir. 

Doors  were  flung  wide,  and  houses  which  at  midday 
had  seemed  uninhabited  were  astir  with  life.  In  the 
patios  beautiful  gardens  were  blooming,  and  through  iron 
gates  easy-chairs  and  hammocks  could  be  seen. 

Maity  of  the  senoritas  had  come  forth,  and  were  stroll 
ing  in  groups  of  threes  or  fours,  dressed  in  pink  and 


Held  for  Ransom.  23 

white  lawn,  with  Spanish  veils  and  fans.  The  most  of 
them  wore  white  stockings  and  red-heeled  slippers. 

Many  a  witching  glance  was  shyly  cast  at  Frank,  but 
his  mind  was  so  occupied  that  he  heeded  none  of  them. 

The  hotel  was  reached,  and  they  were  dismounting, 
when  a  battered  and  tattered  old  man,  about  whose  shoul 
ders  was  cast  a  ragged  blanket,  and  whose  face  was  hid 
den  by  a  scraggly,  white  beard,  came  up  with  a  faltering 
step. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said,  in  a  thin,  cracked  voice,  "I  see 
you  are  Americans,  natives  of  the  States,  Yankees,  and, 
as  I  happen  to  be  from  Michigan,  I  hasten  to  speak  to  you. 
I  know  you  will  have  pity  on  an  unfortunate  countryman. 
My  story  is  short.  My  son  came  to  this  wretched  land  to 
try  to  make  a  fortune.  We  went  into  the  mines,  and 
was  doing  well.  He  sent  me  home  money,  and  I  put  a 
little  aside,  so  that  I  had  a  snug  little  sum  after  a  time. 
Then  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  Pacheco,  the  bandit.  You 
have  heard  of  Pacheco,  gentlemen  ?" 

"We  have,"  said  Frank,  who  was  endeavoring  to  get  a 
fair  look  into  the  old  man's  eyes. 

"We  surely  have,"  agreed  the  professor. 

"Veil,  you  can  pet  my  poots  on  dot !"  nodded  Hans. 

"The  wretch — the  cutthroat !"  cried  the  old  man,  shak 
ing  his  clinched  hand  in  the  air.  "Why  didn't  he  kill  me  ? 
He  has  robbed  me  of  everything — everything!" 

"Tell  us — finish  your  story,"  urged  the  professor. 

Frank  said  nothing.  The  light  from  a  window  shone 
close  by  the  old  man.  Frank  was  waiting  for  the  man  to 
change  his  position  so  the  light  would  shine  on  his  face. 

For  some  moments  the  man  seemed  too  agitated  to  pro 
ceed,  but  he  finally  went  on. 

"My  son — my  son  fell  into  the  hands  of  this  wretched 
bandit.  Pacheco  took  him  captive.  Then  he  sent  word 
to  me  that  he  would  murder  my  son  if  I  did  not  appear 
and  pay  two  thousand  dollars  ransom  money.  Two  thou 
sand  dollars !  I  did  not  have  it  in  the  world.  But  I  had 
a  little  home.  I  sold  it — I  sold  everything  to  raise  the 
money  to  save  my  boy.  I  obtained  it.  And  then — then, 
my  friends,  I  received  another  letter.  Then  Pacheco  de 
manded  three  thousand  dollars." 

"Der  brice  vos  on  der  jump,"  murmured  Hans. 


24  Held  for  Ransom. 

"But  that  is  not  the  worst !"  cried  the  old  man,  waving 
his  arms,  excitedly.  "Oh,  the  monster — the  demon !" 

He  wrung  his  hands,  and  groaned  as  if  with  great 
anguish. 

"Be  calm,  be  calm,"  urged  Professor  Scotch.  "My  dear 
sir,  you  are  working  yourself  into  a  dreadful  state." 

"How  can  I  be  calm?"  groaned  the  stranger.  "It  is 
not  possible  to  be  calm  and  think  of  such  a  terrible 
thing!" 

"What  terrible  thing?"  asked  Frank.  "You  have  not 
told  the  entire  story,  and  we  do  not  know  what  you  mean." 

"True,  true.  Listen !  With  that  letter  Pacheco — the 
monster ! — sent  one  of  my  boy's  little  fingers  !" 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !    I  don'd  toldt  you  dot,  do  I  ?" 

"Horrible !  horrible !" 

The  professor  and  Hans  uttered  these  exclamations,  but 
Frank  was  calm  and  apparently  unmoved,  with  his  eyes 
still  fastened  on  the  face  of  the  old  man. 

"How  you  toldt  dot  vos  der  finger  uf  your  son,  mis 
ter?" 

"That's  it,  that's  it — how  could  you  tell?"  asked  the 
professor. 

"My  son — my  own  boy — he  added  a  line  to  the  letter, 
stating  that  the  finger  had  been  taken  from  his  left  hand, 
and  that  Pacheco  threatened  to  cut  off  his  fingers  one  by 
one  and  send  them  to  me  if  I  did  not  hasten  with  the 
ransom  money." 

"Dot  seddled  you !" 

"You  recognized  the  handwriting  as  that  of  your  son  ?" 

"I  did ;  but  I  recognized  something  besides  that." 

"What?" 

"The  finger." 

"Oh,  you  may  have  been  mistaken  in  that — surely  you 
may." 

"I  was  not."  » 

"How  do  you  know  ?" 

"By  a  mark  on  the  finger." 

"Ah!   what  sort  of  a  mark?" 

"A  peculiar  scar  like  a  triangle,  situated  between  the 
first  and  second  joints.  Besides  that,  the  nail  had  once 
been  crushed,  after  which  it  was  never  perfect." 

"That  was  quite  enough."  nodded  Professor  Scotch. 


Held  for  Ransom.  25 

"Yah,"  agreed  Hans ;  "dot  peen  quide  enough  alretty." 

Still  Frank  was  silent,  watching  and  waiting,  missing 
not  a  word  that  fell  from  the  man's  lips,  missing  not  a 
gesture,  failing  to  note  no  move. 

This  silence  on  the  part  of  Merriwell  seemed  to  affect 
the  man,  who  turned  to  him,  saying,  a  trifle  sharply : 

"Boy,  boy,  have  you  no  sympathy  with  me  ?  Think  of 
the  suffering  I  have  passed  through !  You  should  pity  me." 

"What  are  you  trying  to  do  now?"  asked  Frank, 
quietly. 

"I  am  trying  to  raise  some  money  to  ransom  my  son." 

"But  I  thought  you  did  raise  money  ?" 

"So  I  did,  but  not  enough." 

"Finish  the  story." 

"Well,  when  I  received  that  letter  I  immediately  has 
tened  to  this  land  of  bandits  and  half-breeds.  I  did  not 
have  three  thousand  dollars,  but  I  hoped  "".hat  what  I  had 
would  be  enough  to  soften  Pacheco's  heart — to  save  my 
poor  boy." 

"And  you  failed?" 

The  old  man  groaned  agaia. 

"My  boy  is  still  in  Pacheco's  power,  and  I  have  not  a 
dollar  left  in  all  the  world !  Failed — miserably  failed !" 

"Well,  what  do  you  hope  to  do — what  are  you  trying 
to  do?" 

"Raise  five  hundred  dollars." 

"How?" 

"In  any  way." 

"By  begging?" 

"I  do  not  know  how.    Anyway,  anyway  will  do !" 

"But  you  cannot  raise  it  by  begging  in  this  land,  man," 
said  the  professor.  "This  is  a  land  of  beggars.  Every 
body  seems  to  be  poor  and  wretched." 

"But  I  have  found  some  of  my  own  countrymen,  and 
I  hoped  that  you  might  have  pity  on  me — oh,  I  did  hope !" 

"What?  You  didn't  expect  us  to  give  you  five  hun 
dred  dollars?" 

"Think  of  my  boy — my  poor  boy !  Pacheco  has  threat 
ened  to  murder  him  by  inches — to  cut  him  up  and  send 
him  to  me  in  pieces !  Is  it  not  something  terrible  to  con 
template  ?" 

"Veil,  I  should  dink  id  vos !"  gurgled  the  Dutch  boy. 


26  Held  for  Ransom. 

"But  how  did  you  lose  your  money?" 

"I  was  robbed." 

"By  whom?" 

"Pacheco." 

"How  did  it  happen  ?" 

"I  fell  into  his  hands." 

"And  he  took  your  money  without  setting  your  son 
free?" 

"He  did." 

"Did  you  tell  him  it  was  all  you  had  in  the  world?" 

"I  told  him  that  a  score  of  times." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Told  me  to  raise  more,  or  have  the  pleasure  of  receiv 
ing  my  boy  in  pieces." 

"How  long  ago  was  that?" 

"Three  days." 

"Near  here?" 

"Yes." 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  Mendoza?" 

"Two  days,  and  during  that  time  I  have  received  this 
from  Pacheco." 

He  took  something  from  his  pocket — something 
wrapped  in  a  handkerchief.  With  trembling  fingers,  he 
unrolled  it,  exposing  to  view 

A  bloody  human  finger  1 


CHAPTER  IV. 

UNMASKED. 

Hans  and  Professor  Scotch  uttered  exclamations  of 
horror,  starting  back  from  the  sight  revealed  by  the  light 
that  came  from  the  window  set  deep  in  the  adobe  wall. 

Frank's  teeth  came  together  with  a  peculiar  click,  but 
he  uttered  no  exclamation,  nor  did  he  start. 

This  seemed  to  affect  the  old  man  unpleasantly,  for  he 
turned  on  Frank,  crying  in  an  accusing  manner  and  tone : 

"Have  you  no  heart?    Are  you  made  of  stone?" 

"Hardly,"  was  the  reply. 

"This  finger — it  is  the  second  torn  from  the  hand  of 
my  boy  by  Pacheco,  the  bandit — Pacheco,  the  monster!" 

"Pacheco  seems  to  be  a  man  of  great  determination." 

Professor  Scotch  gazed  at  Frank  in  astonishment,  for 
the  boy  was  of  a  very  sympathetic  and  kindly  nature,  and 
he  now  seemed  quite  unlike  his  usual  self. 

"Frank,  Frank,  think  of  the  suffering  of  this  poor 
father!" 

"Yah,"  murmured  Hans;  "shust  dink  how  pad  you 
vould  felt  uf  you  efer  peen  py  his  blace,"  put  in  Hans, 
sobbing,  chokingly. 

"It  is  very,  very  sad,"  said  Frank ;  but  there  seemed  to 
be  a  singularly  sarcastic  ring  to  the  words  which  fell  from 
his  lips. 

"Have  you  seen  your  son  since  he  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Pacheco,  sir?"  asked  the  professor. 

"Yes,  I  saw  him ;  but  I  could  scarcely  recognize  him,  he 
was  so  changed — so  wan  and  ghastly.  The  skin  is  drawn 
tightly  over  his  bones,  and  he  looks  as  if  he  were  nearly 
starved  to  death." 

"Did  he  recognize  you  ?" 

"Yes." 

"What  did  he  do?" 

The  man  wrung  his  hands  with  a  gesture  of  unutter 
able  anguish. 

"Oh,  his  appeal — I  can  hear  it  now!    He  begged  me 


28  Unmasked. 

to  save  him,  or  to  give  him  poison  that  he  might  kill 
himself !" 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"In  a  cave." 

"Where  is  the  cave?" 

"That  I  cannot  tell,  for  I  was  blindfolded  all  the  time, 
except  while  in  the  cave  where  my  boy  is  kept." 

"It  is  near  Mendoza?" 

"It  must  be  within  fifty  miles  of  here." 

"Perhaps  it  is  nearer?" 

"Possibly." 

"But  you  have  no  means  of  knowing  in  which  direction 
it  lies?" 

"No." 

"Your  only  hope  is  to  raise  the  five  hundred  dollars?" 

"That  is  my  only  hope,  and  that  can  scarcely  be  called 
a  hope,  for  I  must  have  the  money  within  a  day  or  two, 
or  my  boy  will  be  dead." 

"Hum !  hum !"  coughed  the  professor.  "This  is  a  very 
unfortunate  affair — very  unfortunate.  I  am  not  a  wealthy 
man,  but  I " 

"You  will  aid  me?"  shouted  the  old  man,  joyously. 
"Heaven  will  bless  you,  sir — Heaven  will  bless  you !" 

"I  have  not  said  so — I  have  not  said  I  would  aid  you," 
Scotch  hastily  said.  "I  am  going  to  consider  the  matter — 
I'll  think  it  over." 

"Then  I  have  no  hope." 

"Why  not?" 

"If  your  heart  is  not  opened  now,  it  will  never  open. 
My  poor  boy  is  lost,  and  I  am  ready  for  death !" 

The  old  man  seemed  to  break  down  and  sob  like  a  child, 
burying  his  face  in  his  hands,  his  body  shaking  convul 
sively. 

Frank  made  a  quick  gesture  to  the  others,  pressing  a 
finger  to  his  lips  as  a  warning  for  silence. 

In  a  moment  the  old  man  lifted  his  face,  which  seemed 
wet  with  tears. 

"My  last  hope  is  gone !"  he  sighed.  "And  you  are  trav 
elers — you  are  rich!" 

He  turned  to  Frank,  to  whom,  with  an  appealing  ges 
ture,  he  extended  a  hand  that  was  shaking  as  if  with  the 
palsy. 


Unmasked.  29 

"You — surely  you  will  have  sympathy  with  me!  I  can 
see  by  your  face  and  your  bearing  that  you  are  one  of 
fortune's  favorites — you  are  rich.  A  few  dollars " 

"My  dear  man,"  said  Frank,  quite  calmly,  "I  should  be 
more  than  delighted  to  aid  you,  if  you  had  told  the  truth." 

The  old  man  fell  back.  He  was  standing  fairly  in  the 
light  which  shone  from  the  window. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  hoarsely  asked.  "Do  you 
think  I  have  been  lying  to  you — do  you  fancy  such  a 
thing?" 

"I  fancy  nothing ;  I  know  you  have  lied !" 

"Frank!"  cried  Professor  Scotch,  in  amazement. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  gurgled  Hans  Dunnerwust,  in 
a  dazed  way. 

The  manner  of  the  old  man  changed  in  a  twinkling. 

"You  are  insolent,  boy!    You  had  better  be  careful!" 

"Now  you  threaten,"  laughed  Frank.  "Well,  I  expected 
as  much  from  a  beggar,  a  fraud,  and  a  scoundrel !" 

Professor  Scotch  and  Hans  fell  into  each  other's  arms, 
overcome  with  excitement  and  wonder. 

Frank  was  calm  and  deliberate,  and  he  did  not  lift  his 
voice  above  the  tone  used  in  ordinary  conversation. 

Still  another  step  did  the  man  fall  back,  and  then  a 
grating  snarl  broke  from  his  lips,  and  he  seemed  overcome 
with  rage.  He  leaned  forward,  hissing : 

"You  insulting  puppy !" 

"The  truth  must  always  seem  like  an  insult  to  a  scoun 
drel." 

"Do  you  dare?" 

"What  is  there  to  fear?" 

"Much." 

Frank  snapped  his  fingers. 

"Your  tune  has  -changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 
You  are  no  longer  the  heart-broken  father,  begging  for 
his  boy ;  but  you  have  flung  aside  some  of  the  mask,  and 
exposed  your  true  nature." 

Professor  Scotch  saw  this  was  true,  and  he  was  quak 
ing  with  fear  of  what  might  follow  this  remarkable 
change. 

As  for  Hans,  it  took  some  time  for  ideas  to  work  their 
way  through  his  brain,  and  he  was  still  in  a  bewildered 
condition. 


30  Unmasked. 

For  a  moment  the  stranger  was  silent,  seeming  to 
choke  back  words  which  rose  in  his  throat.  Finally,  he 
cried : 

"Oh,  very  well !  I  did  not  expect  to  get  anything  out 
of  you;  but  it  would  have  been  far  better  for  you  if  I 
had.  Now " 

"What?" 

Frank  asked  the  question,  as  the  speaker  faltered. 

"You  shall  soon  learn  what.  I  am  going  to  leave  you, 
but  we  shall  see  more  of  each  other,  don't  forget  that." 

"Wait — do  not  be  in  a  hurry.  I  am  not  satisfied  till 
I — see  your  face!" 

With  the  final  words,  Frank  made  a  leap  and  a  sweep 
of  his  hand,  clutching  the  white  beard  the  man  wore,  and 
tearing  it  from  his  face! 

The  beard  was  false! 

The  face  exposed  was  smoothly  shaven  and  weather- 
tanned. 

"Ha!"  cried  Frank,  triumphantly.  "I  thought  so! 
This  poor  old  man  is  Carlos  Merriwell,  my  villainous 
cousin !" 


CHAPTER  V. 

KIDNAPED. 

As  our  old  readers  know,  Carlos  Merriwell  was  Frank's 
deadly  enemy,  although  they  were  blood  cousins. 

Carlos  was  the  son  of  Asher  Merriwell,  the  brother  of 
Frank's  father. 

At  the  time  of  his  death,  Asher  Merriwell  was  sup 
posed  to  be  a  crusty  old  bachelor,  a  man  who  had  never 
cared  for  women  and  had  never  married.  But  he  had 
not  been  a  woman-hater  all  his  life,  and  there  was  a  ro 
mance  in  his  career. 

Asher  Merriwell  had  been  snared  by  the  wiles  of  an 
adventuress,  and  he  had  married  her.  By  this  woman 
he  had  a  son,  but  the  marriage  had  been  kept  a  secret, 
so  that  when  she  deceived  him  and  they  quarreled  they 
were  able  to  separate  and  live  apart  without  the  fact  be 
coming  public  that  Merriwell  had  been  married. 

Fortunately  the  woman  died  without  openly  proclaim 
ing  herself  as  the  wife  of  Asher  Merriwell.  In  her  veins 
there  had  been  Spanish  blood,  and  her  son  was  named 
Carlos. 

After  the  death  of  his  wife,  Asher  Merriwell  set  about 
providing  for  and  educating  the  boy,  although  Carlos  con 
tinued  to  bear  his  mother's  maiden  name  of  Durcal. 

As  Carlos  grew  up  he  developed  into  a  wild  and  reckless 
young  blade,  making  no  amount  of  trouble  and  worry  for 
his  father. 

Asher  Merriwell  did  his  best  for  the  boy,  but  there  was 
bad  blood  in  the  lad's  veins,  and  it  cost  the  man  no  small 
sums  to  settle  for  the  various  "sports"  in  which  Carlos 
participated. 

Finally  Carlos  took  a  fancy  to  strike  out  and  see  the 
world  for  himself,  and  he  disappeared  without  telling 
whither  he  was  going. 

After  this,  he  troubled  his  father  at  intervals  until  he 
committed  a  crime  in  a  foreign  country,  where  he  was 
tried,  convicted,  and  imprisoned  for  a  long  term  of  years. 


32  Kidnaped. 

This  was  the  last  straw  so  far  as  Asher  Merriwell  was 
concerned,  and  he  straightway  proceeded  to  disown  Car 
los,  and  cut  him  off  without  a  cent. 

It  was  afterward  reported  that  Carl  Durcal  had  been 
shot  by  guards  while  attempting  to  escape  from  prison, 
and  Asher  Merriwell  died  firmly  believing  himself  to  be 
sonless. 

At  his  death,  Asher  left  everything  to  Frank  Merri 
well,  the  son  of  his  brother,  and  provided  that  Frank 
should  travel  under  the  guardianship  of  Professor  Scotch, 
as  the  eccentric  old  uncle  believed  travel  furnished  the 
surest  means  for  "broadening  the  mind." 

But  Carlos  Merriwell  had  not  been  killed,  and  he  had 
escaped  from  prison.  Finding  he  had  been  cut  off  without 
a  dollar  and  everything  had  been  left  to  Frank,  Carlos 
was  furious,  and  he  swore  that  his  cousin  should  not  live 
to  enjoy  the  property. 

In  some  ways  Carlos  was  shrewd ;  in  others  he  was  not. 
He  was  shrewd  enough  to  see  that  he  might  have  trouble 
in  proving  himself  the  son  of  Asher  Merriwell  by  a  law 
ful  marriage,  and  so  he  did  not  attempt  it. 

But  there  was  a  still  greater  stumbling  block  in  his  way, 
for  if  he  came  out  and  announced  himself  and  made  a 
fight  for  the  property,  he  would  be  forced  to  tell  the  truth 
concerning  his  past  life,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  an 
escaped  convict  would  be  made  known. 

Having  considered  these  things,  Carlos  grew  desperate. 
If  he  could  not  have  his  father's  property,  he  swore  again 
and  again  that  Frank  should  not  hold  it. 

With  all  the  reckless  abandon  of  his  nature,  Carlos 
made  two  mad  attempts  on  Frank's  life,  both  of  which 
were  baffled,  and  then  the  young  desperado  was  forced 
to  make  himself  scarce. 

But  Carlos  had  become  an  expert  crook,  and  he  was 
generally  flush  with  ill-gotten  gains,  so  he  was  able  to  put 
spies  on  Frank.  He  hired  private  detectives,  and  Frank 
was  continually  under  secret  surveillance. 

Thus  it  fame  about  that  Carlos  knew  when  Frank  set 
about  upon  his  travels,  and  he  set  a  snare  for  the  boy  in 
New  York  City. 

Straight  into  this  snare  Frank  walked,  but  he  escaped 


Kidnaped.  33 

through  his  own  exertions,  and  then  baffled  two  further 
attempts  on  his  life. 

By  this  time  Carlos  found  it  necessary  to  disappear 
again,  and  Frank  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  from  him 
till  this  moment,  when  the  fellow  stood  unmasked  in  the 
Mexican  town  of  Mendoza. 

Frank  had  become  so  familiar  with  his  villainous  cous 
in's  voice  and  gestures  that  Carlos  had  not  been  able  to 
deceive  him.  From  the  first,  Frank  had  believed  the  old 
man  a  fraud,  and  he  was  soon  satisfied  that  the  fellow 
was  Carlos. 

On  Carlos  Merriwell's  cheek  was  a  scar  that  had  been 
hidden  by  the  false  beard — a  scar  that  he  would  bear  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

Professor  Scotch  nearly  collapsed  in  a  helpless  heap,  so 
completely  astounded  that  he  could  not  utter  a  word. 

As  for  Hans,  he  simply  gasped: 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!" 

A  snarling  exclamation  of  fury  broke  from  Carlos'  lips. 

"Oh,  you're  too  sharp,  my  fine  cousin !"  he  grated,  his 
hand  disappearing  beneath  the  ragged  blanket.  "You  are 
too  sharp  to  live !" 

Out  came  the  hand,  and  a  knife  flashed  in  the  light 
that  shone  from  the  window  of  the  hotel.  Frank,  how 
ever,  was  on  the  alert,  and  was  watching  for  just  such  a 
move.  With  a  twisting  movement,  he  drew  his  body 
aside,  so  the  knife  clipped  down  past  his  shoulder,  cut 
ting  open  his  sleeve,  but  failing  to  reach  his  flesh. 

"That  was  near  it,"  he  said,  as  he  whirled  and  caught 
Carlos  by  the  wrist. 

Frank  had  a  clutch  of  iron,  and  he  gave  Carlos'  wrist 
a  wrench  that  forced  a  cry  from  the  fellow's  lips,  and 
caused  the  knife  to  drop  to  the  ground. 

"You  are  altogether  too  handy  with  such  a  weapon," 
said  the  boy,  coolly.  "It  is  evident  your  adeptness  with 
a  dagger  comes  from  your  mother's  side.  Your  face  is 
dark  and  treacherous,  and  you  look  well  at  home  in  this 
land  of  dark  and  treacherous  people." 

Carlos  ground  forth  a  fierce  exclamation,  making  » 
desperate  move  to  fling  Frank  off,  but  failing. 

"Oh,  you  are  smart !"  the  fellow  with  the  scarred  face 
admitted.  "But  you  have  been  lucky.  You  were  lucky 


34  Kidnaped. 

at  Fardale,  and  you  were  lucky  in  New  York.  Now  you 
have  come  to  a  land  where  I  will  have  my  turn.  You'll 
never  leave  Mexico  alive !" 

"I  have  listened  to  your  threats  before  this." 

"I  have  made  no  threats  that  shall  not  come  true." 

"What  a  desperate  wretch  you  are,  Carlos!  I  would 
have  met  you  on  even  terms,  and  come  to  an  agreement 
with  you,  if  you " 

"Bah !  Do  you  think  I  would  make  terms  ?  Not  much ! 
You  have  robbed  me  of  what  is  rightfully  mine,  and  I 
have  sworn  you  shall  not  take  the  good  of  it.  I'll  keep 
that  oath !" 

A  strange  cry  broke  from  his  lips,  as  he  found  he  could 
not  tear  his  wrist  from  Frank's  ringers. 

Then  came  a  rush  of  catlike  footfalls  and  a  clatter  of 
hoofs.  All  at  once  voices  were  heard,  crying : 

"Ladrones !  ladrones !" 

Dark  figures  appeared  on  every  hand,  sending  natives 
fleeing  to  shelter.  Spanish  oaths  sounded  on  the  evening 
air,  and  the  glint  of  steel  was  seen. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  gurgled  Hans  Dunnerwust. 
"Uf  we  don'd  peen  in  a  heap  uf  drouble,  I  know  nod- 
dings!" 

"It's  the  bandits,  Frank!"  called  Professor  Scotch. 
"They  have  charged  right  into  the  town,  and  they " 

"Ha !  ha !"  laughed  Carlos.  "You  fear  the  bandits ! 
They  are  my  friends.  They  are  here,  and  it  is  my  turn !" 

A  horseman  was  riding  straight  down  on  Frank,  and 
the  boy  flung  Carlos  aside,  making  a  leap  that  took  him 
out  of  the  way. 

Something,  glittering  brightly,  descended  in  a  sweep  to 
ward  Frank's  head,  but  the  blow  was  stopped  by  Carlos, 
who  shouted  something  in  Spanish. 

Frank  understood  Spanish  well  enough  to  catch  the 
drift  of  the  words,  and  he  knew  his  cousin  had  not  saved 
him  through  compassion,  but  for  quite  another  purpose. 

Carlos  coveted  the  riches  into  which  Frank  had  fallen, 
and  he  meant  to  have  a  portion  of  the  money.  If  Frank 
were  killed,  there  was  little  chance  that  he  would  ever 
handle  a  dollar  of  the  fortune,  so  he  had  cried  out  that 
his  cousin  was  to  be  spared,  captured,  and  held  for  ran 
som. 


Kidnaped.  35 

That  was  enough  to  warn  Frank  of  the  terrible  peril 
that  overshadowed  him  at  the  moment. 

Out  came  his  revolvers,  and  his  back  went  against  the 
wall.  Upward  were  flung  his  hands,  and  the  weapons 
began  to  crack. 

Two  horses  fell,  sent  down  by  the  first  two  bullets  from 
the  pistols  of  the  boy  at  bay. 

But  Frank  found  he  could  not  shoot  horses  and  save 
himself,  for  dark  forms  were  pressing  upon  him,  and  he 
must  fall  into  the  clutches  of  the  bandits  in  another  mo 
ment  unless  he  resorted  to  the  most  desperate  measures. 

"If  you  will  have  it,  then  you  shall!"  he  muttered, 
through  his  set  teeth,  turning  his  aim  on  the  human  forms. 

Spouts  of  red  fire  shot  from  the  muzzles  of  the  re 
volvers,  and  the  cracking  of  the  weapons  was  followed  by 
cries  and  groans. 

Through  a  smoky  haze  Frank  saw  some  of  the  dark 
figures  fling  up  their  arms  and  topple  to  the  ground  within 
a  few  feet  of  him. 

He  wondered  what  had  become  of  Hans  and  the  profes 
sor,  for  he  could  see  nothing  of  either,  and  they  had  been 
close  at  hand  a  moment  before. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this,  Frank  wondered  at  his  own 
calmness.  His  one  thought  was  that  not  a  bullet  should 
be  wasted,  and  then  he  feared  he  would  find  his  weapons 
empty  and  useless  before  the  desperadoes  were  rebuffed. 

But  this  reception  was  something  the  bandits  had  not 
expected  from  a  boy.  They  had  no  heart  to  stand  up 
before  a  lad  who  could  shoot  with  the  skill  of  a  Gringo 
cowboy,  and  did  not  seem  at  all  excited  when  attacked 
by  twenty  men. 

Mexican  half-bloods  are  cowards  at  heart,  and,  by  the 
time  they  saw  two  or  three  of  their  number  fall  before  the 
fire  from  Frank's  revolvers  they  turned  and  took  to  their 
heels  like  a  flock  of  frightened  sheep. 

"Say,  holdt  on  avile  und  led  me  ged  a  few  pullets  indo 
you,  mein  friendts." 

It  was  Hans'  voice,  and,  looking  down,  Frank  saw  the 
Dutch  lad  on  the  ground  at  his  feet,  whither  he  had  crept 
on  hands  and  knees. 

"What  are  you  down  there  for,  Hans?" 

"Vot  you  dink,  Vrankie?    You  don'd  subbose  I  sdood 


36  Kidnaped. 

up  all  der  dime  und  ged  in  der  vay  der  pullets  uf  ?  Veil, 
you  may  excuse  me !  I  don'd  like  to  peen  a  deat  man  al- 
retty  yet." 

"That's  all  right,  Hans.    I  admire  your  judgment." 

"Dank  you,  Vrankie.  I  admire  der  vay  you  vork  dose 
revolfers.  Dot  peat  der  pand,  und  don'd  you  verged 
him!" 

At  this  moment,  a  horse  with  a  double  burden  swept 
past  in  the  flare  of  light. 

"Help!     Frank — Frank  Merriwell!    Help — save  me!" 

"Merciful  goodness!"  cried  Frank.  "It  is  the  profes 
sor's  voice!" 

"Und  he  vos  on  dot  horse!" 

"Yes — a  captive!" 

"Dot's  vat  he  vos!" 

"Our  own  horses — where  are  they  ?  We  must  pursue ! 
What  have  become  of  our  horses  ?" 

"Dose  pandits  haf  dooken  them,  I  susbect." 

This  was  true ;  Frank  had  killed  two  of  the  horses  be 
longing  to  the  bandits,  but  the  desperadoes  had  escaped 
with  the  three  animals  hired  by  our  friends. 

But  that  was  not  the  worst,  for  Professor  Scotch  had 
been  captured  and  carried  away  by  the  bold  ruffians. 

Frank  heard  the  professor's  appeals  for  help,  and  heard 
a  mocking,  cold-blooded  laugh  that  he  knew  came  from 
the  lips  of  Carlos  Merriwell. 

Then  the  clatter  of  hoofs  passed  on  down  the  street, 
growing  fainter  and  fainter,  till  they  left  the  town  for 
the  open  plain,  and  finally  died  out  in  the  night. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CARRIED  INTO  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

In  vain,  Frank  attempted  to  organize  a  party  to  pursue 
the  bandits.  The  citizens  of  Mendoza  were  completely 
terrorized,  and  they  had  no  heart  to  follow  the  despera 
does  out  upon  the  plain,  which  was  the  bandits'  own 
stamping  ground. 

Frank  urged,  entreated,  begged,  and  finally  grew  furi 
ous,  but  he  simply  wasted  his  breath. 

"No,  no,  sefior,"  protested  a  Mexican.  "You  no  find 
anybody  dat  chase  Pacheco  dis  night — no,  no,  not  much !" 

"Pacheco?  You  don't  mean  to  say  —  you  can't 
mean " 

"Dat  was  Pacheco  and  his  band,  sefior." 

Frank  groaned. 

"Pacheco!"  he  muttered,  huskily;  "Pacheco,  the  worst 
wretch  in  all  Mexico!  He  is  utterly  heartless,  and  the 

professor  will But  Pacheco  is  not  the  worst!"  he 

suddenly  gasped.  "There  is  Carlos  Merriwell,  who  must 
be  one  of  the  bandits.  He  may  take  a  fancy  to  torture 
Professor  Scotch  simply  because  the  professor  is  my 
guardian." 

"What  you  say,  senor?"  asked  the  curious  Mexican. 
"I  do  not  understand  all  dat  you  speak." 

Frank  turned  away,  with  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"Vot  you  goin's  to  done,  Vrankie?"  asked  Hans,  dole 
fully. 

"I  do  not  seem  to  be  able  to  do  anything  now.  This 
matter  must  be  placed  before  the  authorities,  but  I  do  not 
fancy  that  will  amount  to  anything.  The  officers  here  are 
afraid  of  the  bandits,  and  the  government  is  criminally 
negligent  in  the  matter  of  pushing  and  punishing  the  out 
laws.  The  capture  of  an  American  to  be  held  for  ran 
som  will  be  considered  by  them  as  a  very  funny  joke." 

"Veil,  I  don'd  seen  vot  you  goin'  to  done  apout  it." 

"I  do  not  see  myself,  but,  come  on,  and  we  will  find 
out." 


38  Carried  into  the  Mountains. 

He  sought  the  highest  officials  of  the  town,  and  laid 
the  matter  before  them.  In  the  most  polite  manner  pos 
sible,  they  protested  their  pained  solicitation  and  com 
miseration,  but  when  he  urged  them  to  do  something,  they 
replied : 

"To-morrow,  senor,  or  the  next  day,  we  will  see  what 
we  may  be  able  to  do." 

"To-morrow!"  cried  Frank,  desperately.  "With  you 
everything  is  to-morrow,  to-morrow !  To-day,  to-night, 
now  is  the  time  to  do  something!  Delays  are  fatal,  par 
ticularly  in  pursuing  bandits  and  kidnapers." 

But  they  shook  their  heads  sadly,  and  continued  to  ex 
press  sympathy  and  regret,  all  the  while  protesting  it 
would  be  impossible  to  do  anything  before  to-morrow  or 
the  next  day. 

Frank  was  so  furious  and  desperate  that  he  even  had 
thought  of  following  the  bandits  with  Hans  as  an  only 
companion,  but  the  man  of  whom  he  had  obtained  the 
horses  in  the  first  place  would  not  let  him  have  other 
animals. 

That  was  not  all.  This  man  had  gone  through  some 
kind  of  proceeding  to  lawfully  seize  Frank  and  Hans  and 
hold  them  till  the  animals  captured  by  the  bandits  were 
paid  for  at  the  price  he  should  name,  and  this  he  proceeded 
to  do. 

Now,  Frank  did  not  have  the  price  demanded  for  the 
three  horses,  and  he  could  not  draw  it  that  night,  so  he 
was  obliged  to  submit,  and  the  two  boys  were  prisoners 
till  near  three  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  when  the  money 
was  obtained  and  the  bill  paid. 

At  the  hotel  Frank  found  a  letter  awaiting  him,  and, 
to  his  unbounded  amazement,  it  was  from  the  professor. 

With  haste  he  tore  it  open,  and  these  words  are  what 
he  read : 

"DEAR  FRANK:  Pacheco  commands  me  to  write  this 
letter.  We  are  at  the  headwaters  of  the  Rio  de  Nieves, 
but  we  move  on  to  the  westward  as  soon  as  I  have  writ 
ten.  He  tells  me  we  are  bound  for  the  mountains  be 
yond  Huejugilla  el  Alto,  which  is  directly  west  of  Za- 
catecas  as  the  bird  flies  one  hundred  and  ten  miles.  He 
bids  me  tell  you  to  follow  to  Huejugilla  el  Alto,  where 


Carried  into  the  Mountains.  39 

he  says  arrangements  will  be  made  for  my  ransom.  Re 
member  Jack  Burk.  He  spoke  of  the  mountains  to  the 
west  of  Zacatecas.  Pacheco  threatens  to  mutilate  me  and 
forward  fragments  to  you  if  you  do  not  follow  to  the 
point  specified.  He  is  watching  me  as  I  write,  and  one 
of  his  men  will  carry  this  letter  to  Mendoza,  and  deliver 
it.  The  situation  is  desperate,  and  it  strikes  me  that  it 
is  best  to  comply  with  Pacheco's  demands  in  case  you 
care  to  bother  about  me.  If  you  want  me  to  be  chopped 
up  bit  by  bit  and  forwarded  to  you,  do  not  bother  to 
follow.  I  have  no  doubt  but  Pacheco  will  keep  his  word 
to  the  letter  in  this  matter.  I  am,  my  dear  boy,  your  de 
voted  guardian  and  tutor, 

"HORACE  ORMAN  TYLER  SCOTCH." 

That  this  letter  was  genuine  there  could  be  no  doubt, 
as  it  was  written  in  the  professor's  peculiar  style  of  chi- 
rography;  but  it  did  not  sound  like  the  professor,  and 
Frank  knew  well  enough  that  it  had  been  written  under 
compulsion,  and  the  language  had  been  dictated  by  an 
other  party. 

"Poor  old  professor!"  murmured  the  boy.  "Poor  old 
professor !  He  shall  be  saved !  He  shall  be  saved !  He 
knows  I  will  do  everything  I  can  for  him." 

"Yah,  but  he  don'd  seem  to  say  dot  der  ledder  in," 
observed  Hans,  who  had  also  read  every  word. 

"Huejugilla  el  Alto  is  one  hundred  and  ten  miles  west 
of  Zacatecas." 

"Vere  you  belief  they  findt  dot  name,  Vrankie?" 

Frank  did  not  mind  the  Dutch  lad's  question,  but  bowed 
his  head  on  his  hand,  and  fell  to  thinking. 

"We  must  have  horses,  and  we  must  follow.  'Remem 
ber  Jack  Burk.'  Surely  the  professor  put  that  part  of 
the  letter  in  of  his  own  accord.  He  did  not  speak  of  the 
Silver  Palace,  but  he  wished  to  call  it  to  my  mind.  That 
palace,  according  to  Burk,  lies  directly  west  of  Zacatecas, 
somewhere  amid  the  mountains  beyond  this  place  he  has 
mentioned.  The  professor  meant  for  me  to  understand 
that  I  would  be  proceeding  on  my  way  to  search  for  the 
palace.  Perhaps  he  hopes  to  escape." 

"Yah,"  broke  in  Hans,  "berhaps  he  meant  to  done  dot, 
Vrankie." 


40  Carried  into  the  Mountains. 

"We  would  be  very  near  the  mountains — it  must  be  that 
we  would  be  in  the  mountains." 

"I  guess  dot  peen  shust  apoudt  vere  we  peen,  Vrankie." 

"If  he  escaped,  or  should  be  rescued  or  ransomed,  we 
could  easily  continue  the  search  for  the  palace." 

"You  vos  exactly  righdt." 

"We  must  have  horses  and  a  guide." 

"We  can  ged  dem  mit  money." 

"We  had  better  proceed  to  Zacatecas,  and  procure  the 
animals  and  the  guide  there." 

"Shust  exactly  vot  I  vould  haf  suggestet,  Vrankie." 

"We  will  lose  no  time  about  it." 

"Veil,  I  guess  nod !" 

"But  Carlos — Carlos,  my  cousin.  It  is  very  strange, 
but  Professor  Scotch  does  not  mention  him." 

"Py  shimminy !  dot  peen  der  trute !" 

"And  I  am  certain  it  was  Carlos  that  captured  the  pro 
fessor.  I  heard  the  fellow  laugh — his  wicked,  triumphant 
laugh!" 

"I  heardt  dot  meinseluf,  Vrankie." 

"Carlos  must  be  with  the  band." 

"Yah." 

"And  Pacheco  is  carrying  this  matter  out  to  suit  my 
cousin." 

"Yah." 

"Hans,  it  is  possible  you  had  better  remain  behind." 

"Vot  vos  dot  ?"  gurgled  the  Dutch  lad,  in  blank  amaze 
ment.  "Vot  for  vos  I  goin'  to  gone  pehindt  und  stay, 
Vrankie?" 

"I  see  a  trap  in  this — a  plot  to  lead  me  into  a  snare  and 
make  me  a  captive." 

"Veil,  don'd  I  stood  ub  und  took  mein  medicine  mit 
you  all  der  dimes?  Vot  vos  der  maddetr  mit  me?  Vos 
you  lost  your  courage  in  me  alretty  yet?" 

"Hans,  I  have  no  right  to  take  you  into  such  danger. 
Without  doubt,  a  snare  will  be  spread  for  me,  but  I  am 
going  to  depend  on  fate  to  help  me  to  avoid  it." 

"Veil,  I  took  some  stock  dot  fate  in  meinseluf." 

"If  I  should  take  you  along  and  you  were  killed " 

"I  took  your  chances  on  dot,  mein  poy.  Vot  vos  I 
draveling  aroundt  mit  you  vor  anyhow  you  vant  to  know, 
ain'dt  id?" 


Carried  into  the  Mountains.          41 

"You  are  traveling  for  pleasure,  and  not  to  fight  ban 
dits." 

"Uf  dot  peen  a  bard  der  bleasure  uf,  you  don'd  haf 
some  righdt  to  rob  me  uf  id.  Vrank  Merriwell,  dit  you 
efer  know  me  to  gone  pack  mit  you  on  ?" 

"No,  Hans." 

"Dot  seddles  dot.  You  nefer  vill.  Shust  count  me  indo 
dis  racket.  I  am  going  righdt  along  mit  you,  und  don'd 
you  rememper  dot !" 

Frank  laughed. 

"Hans,"  he  said,  "you  are  true  blue.  We  will  stick  by 
each  other  till  the  professor  is  saved  from  Pacheco  and 
Carlos  Merriwell." 

"Yah,  we  done  dot." 

Tkey  clasped  hands,  and  that  point  was  settled. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  CAMP  IN  THE  DESERT. 

Without  unnecessary  delay,  they  took  the  train  from 
Mendoza  to  Zacatecas,  which  was  a  much  larger  place. 

In  Zacatecas  they  set  about  the  task  of  finding  a  reli 
able  guide,  which  was  no  easy  matter,  as  they  soon  dis 
covered. 

The  Mexican  half-bloods  were  a  lazy,  shiftless  set,  and 
the  full-blooded  Spaniards  did  not  seem  to  care  about 
taking  the  trip  across  the  desert. 

Till  late  that  night  Frank  searched  in  vain  for  the  man 
he  wanted,  and  he  was  finally  forced  to  give  up  the  task 
till  another  day. 

Such  a  delay  made  him  very  impatient,  and  he  felt 
much  like  starting  out  without  a  guide,  depending  on  a 
compass,  with  which  he  believed  he  would  be  able  to  make 
his  way  due  west  to  Huejugilla  el  Alto. 

The  landlord  of  the  hotel  at  which  they  stopped  that 
night  was  a  fine-appearing  man,  and  Frank  ventured  to 
lay  the  matter  before  him. 

The  landlord  listened  to  the  entire  story,  looking  very 
grave,  shook  his  head  warningly,  and  said : 

"Do  not  think  of  attempting  to  cross  the  desert  alone, 
young  senors.  Without  a  guide  you  might  get  lost  and 
perish  for  water.  By  all  means,  take  a  guide." 

"But  how  are  we  to  obtain  a  trustworthy  guide,  sir?" 

"That  is  truly  a  problem,  but  I  think  I  may  be  able 
to  assist  you  in  the  morning." 

"If  you  can,  it  will  be  a  great  favor." 

"Many  thanks,  young  senor.  I  will  see  what  can  be 
done.  If  you  would  take  my  advice,  you  would  not  go 
to  Huejugilla  el  Alto." 

"Why  not?" 

"It  is  far  from  the  railroad,  and  is  situated  in  a  very 
wild  region.  If  you  were  to  go  there  and  should  never  be 
heard  of  again,  it  would  not  be  easy  for  your  friends 
to  discover  what  had  become  of  you.  Pacheco  directed 


The  Camp  in  the  Desert.  43 

you  to  go  there,  and  he  means  you  no  good.  It  is  likely 
you  will  walk  into  a  trap  that  Pacheco  has  set  for  you." 

"I  have  considered  that,"  said  Frank,  quietly;  "and  I 
have  decided  to  go." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  with  a  gesture  expressive  of  regret. 
"I  know  it  is  quite  impossible  to  change  the  determination 
of  you  Americans.  If  you  have  firmly  decided  to  go, 
you  will  go,  even  though  you  knew  all  the  deadly  dangers 
that  may  lie  in  wait  for  you." 

Being  again  assured  that  the  landlord  would  do  his  best 
to  obtain  a  guide,  Frank  proposed  to  retire  for  the  night. 

For  all  of  the  troubles  that  beset  him,  Frank  was  able 
to  sleep  soundly,  having  trained  himself  to  sleep  under 
almost  any  circumstances.  Hans  also  slept  and  snored,  to 
be  awakened  in  the  morning  by  Frank,  who  was  shaking 
him  roughly. 

"Come,  Hans,  it  is  time  we  were  stirring." 

"Vot  vos  dot?"  cried  the  Dutch  lad,  in  surprise.  "We 
don'd  peen  asleep  more  as  fifteen  minutes  alretty  yet." 

"It  is  morning." 

"I  don'd  toldt  you  so !    Veil,  dot  peats  der  pand !" 

Hans  got  up  and  dressed  with  great  reluctance,  yawn 
ing,  and  declaring  ove~  and  over  that  the  nights  in  Mex 
ico  were  not  more  than  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  in  length. 

The  landlord  had  prepared  a  special  breakfast  for  them, 
and  it  proved  the  best  they  had  found  since  leaving  "the 
States,"  so  they  ate  heartily  and  felt  much  better  after 
ward. 

After  breakfast  the  landlord  himself  informed  them  that 
he  had  been  able  to  obtain  a  guide. 

"He  is  the  very  person  you  want,  young  senors,  for 
he  knows  the  desert  and  he  knows  the  mountains.  You 
may  depend  on  him  to  lead  you  straight  across  to  Hueju- 
gilla  el  Alto." 

The  guide  was  waiting  for  them,  wrapped  to  his  chin  in 
a  crimson  poncho,  and  smoking  a  cigarette.  He  was  a 
dark-faced,  somewhat  sinister-looking  fellow,  and  he  gave 
his  name  as  Pedro. 

While  Frank  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  the  man, 
he  felt  that  it  was  not  policy  to  delay  longer,  and  a  bar 
gain  was  soon  made.  Pedro  not  only  agreed  to  take  them 


44  The  Camp  in  the  Desert. 

quickly  across  the  desert,  but  he  contracted  to  furnish 
horses  for  them. 

The  forenoon  was  not  far  advanced  when  they  rode  out 
of  Zacatecas,  and,  with  the  sun  at  their  backs,  headed  to 
ward  the  west. 

Before  the  day  passed  Pedro  showed  by  many  things 
that  he  was  quite  familiar  with  the  desert.  He  knew 
where  shade  and  water  were  to  be  found,  and,  at  noon 
day,  they  rested  long  beside  a  spring,  with  the  sun  beat 
ing  on  the  wide  waste  of  sand,  over  which  the  heat  haze 
danced,  and  where  no  cooling  breath  seemed  astir. 

The  heat  affected  Hans  much  more  than  it  did  Frank. 
The  Dutch  boy  suffered,  but  he  made  no  complaint. 

With  the  sun  well  over  into  the  western  sky,  they 
pushed  onward  again.  They  did  not  halt  as  the  grateful 
shadows  of  night  lay  on  the  desert,  but  followed  Pedro 
on  and  on. 

At  last,  far  across  the  desert,  they  saw  the  twinkling 
of  a  light  that  seemed  like  a  fallen  star. 

"It's  a  camp-fire,"  declared  Pedro,  in  Spanish.  "Who 
can  be  there  ?" 

"It  may  be  bandits,"  suggested  Frank,  somewhat  wary. 

"No,"  declared  the  guide,  "bandits  do  not  build  fires  on 
the  open  plains.  Bandits  it  cannot  be." 

He  did  not  hesitate  to  lead  them  straight  toward  the 
fire. 

Frank  whispered  to  Hans: 

"Have  your  weapons  ready.    This  may  be  the  trap." 

As  they  approached  the  fire,  they  were  able  to  make  out 
the  figures  of  two  or  three  horses,  but  no  human  being 
was  to  be  seen,  although  a  coffeepot  sat  on  some  coals, 
fragrant  steam  rising  from  the  nozzle. 

Pedro  stopped,  seeming  somewhat  uneasy  for  the  first 
time. 

"What  is  it  ?"  asked  Frank,  with  apprehension. 

"Yah,  vot  id  vos?"  asked  Hans.  "Vos  der  camp  left 
all  alone  mit  ids  lonesome?" 

"Not  that,  senors;  but  we  have  been  heard,  and  the 
ones  at  the  camp  are  hiding  and  watching." 

"Veil,  I  like  dot.  Maype  dey  haf  der  trop  on  us  al- 
retty  soon." 

"That  is  likely,"  said  Frank. 


The  Camp  in  the  Desert.  45 

Pedro  called  out  something  in  Spanish,  but  there  was 
no  answer,  save  that  one  of  the  horses  lifted  its  head  and 
neighed. 

Then  Frank  tried  it  in  English: 

"Ho,  the  camp !    Who  is  there,  and  where  are  you  ?" 

Almost  instantly  a  man's  voice  replied : 

"I'm  out  hyar  whar  I  kin  take  a  peep  at  yer,  as  I  heard 
yer  comin'.  Didn't  know  but  you  wus  Greasers,  an'  I 
ain't  got  no  use  fer  ther  onery  varmints.  As  yer  kin  talk 
United  States,  just  move  right  up  ter  the  fire  and  join 
me  at  supper." 

There  was  a  hearty  freedom  about  the  invitation  that 
dispelled  Frank's  fears  immediately,  and  they  rode  for 
ward  into  the  firelight. 

As  they  did  so,  a  man  rose  from  where  he  had  been 
stretched  on  the  sand,  and  came  forward  to  meet  them. 

"Great  Scott!"  shouted  Frank,  as  the  firelight  fell  on 
the  man's  face.  "It's  Alwin  Bushnell,  Jack  Burk's  part 
ner  !" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE     TREASURE     SEEKER. 

"Thet  thar's  my  handle,"  acknowledged  the  man ;  "but 
I'm  strapped  ef  I  understand  how  you  'uns  happen  ter 
know  it !" 

He  stared  at  the  boys  and  the  guide  in  blank  amaze 
ment.  Seeing  Pedro's  face  fairly,  he  gave  a  slight  start, 
and  then  looked  still  more  closely. 

"There's  no  doubt,"  palpitated  Frank;  "you  are  Alwin 
Bushnell?" 

"That's  me,"  nodded  the  camper. 

"And  you  are  alone?" 

"Certun  sure." 

"Bound  west?" 

"I  reckon." 

"For  the  mountains  and  the  Silver " 

Frank  caught  himself,  and  stopped  short,  remembering 
Pedro,  and  knowing  the  guide's  ears  and  eyes  were  wide 
open  to  hear  and  see  everything. 

Bushnell  fell  back  a  step,  a  look  of  still  greater  surprise 
coming  to  his  bronzed  and  bearded  face. 

"Wat's  thet  thar  you  wus  goin'  ter  say?"  he  de 
manded. 

"Wait,"  said  Frank,  "I  will  tell  you  later.    It  is  better." 

Plainly,  Alwin  Bushnell  was  puzzled,  and  not  a  little 
amazed. 

"You  know  my  handle,  an'  you  seem  ter  know  whatever 
way  I'm  trailin'.  This  yere  lays  over  me,  as  I  acknowl 
edges  instanter." 

"That's  not  hard  to  explain." 

"Then  I  begs  yer  to  explain  it  without  delay." 

"Your  partner  told  us  of  you." 

"Old  Jack?" 

"Yes." 

"When,  and  whar?" 

"Two  days  ago,  outside  of  Mendoza." 

"He  wuz  thar?" 


The  Treasure  Seeker.  47 

"Yes." 

"But  how  did  yer  know  me  ?" 

"We  saw  you." 

"When?" 

"When  you  were  pursued  across  the  plain  by  bandits." 

Bushnell  slapped  his  thigh. 

"Thar!"  he  cried;  "I  remembers  yer  now!  You  wuz 
near  a  doby  hut,  an'  yer  opened  up  on  ther  pizen  skunks 
as  wuz  arter  me." 

"That's  right." 

"Wall,  I'm  much  obliged,  fer  you  socked  ther  lead  ter 
them  critters  so  they  switched  off  an'  let  me  get  away. 
You  kin  shoot,  boy." 

"Some." 

"Some !  Wa'al,  that's  right,  you  bet !  Give  us  a  wag  of 
your  fin !  I'm  mortal  glad  ter  clap  peepers  on  yer,  fer  I 
never  expected  ter  see  yer  an'  thank  yer  fer  thet  trick." 

Frank  swung  from  the  saddle,  and  surrendered  his  hand 
into  the  broad  "paw"  of  the  rough  and  hearty  Westerner, 
who  gave  it  a  crushing  grip  and  a  rough  shake,  repeat 
ing: 

"I'm  mortal  glad  ter  see  yer,  thet's  whatever!  But  I 
want  ter  know  how  you  happened  to  chip  inter  thet  thar 
little  game.  You  took  a  hand  at  jest  ther  right  time  ter 
turn  ther  run  of  ther  cards,  an'  I  got  out  without  goin' 
broke." 

"I  chipped  in  because  I  saw  you  were  a  white  man,  and 
you  were  hard  pressed  by  a  villainous  crew  who  must  be 
bandits.  I  believe  in  white  men  standing  by  white  men." 

"Say,  thet's  a  great  motter,  young  man.  'White  men 
stand  by  white  men.'  As  fer  me,  I  don't  like  a  Greaser 
none  whatever." 

As  he  said  this,  Bushnell  gave  Pedro  another  searching 
look,  and  the  guide  scowled  at  the  ground  in  a  sullen  way. 

"Now,"  continued  the  Westerner,  "w'at  I  wants  ter 
know  next  is  w'at  yer  knows  about  Jack  Burk.  We  had  a 
place  all  agreed  on  ter  meet  w'en  I  returned,  but  he 
wusn't  thar,  an'  I  hed  ter  go  it  alone.  That's  why  I'm 
yere  alone." 

"It  was  not  Burk's  fault  that  he  did  not  meet  you." 

"Say  you  so?  Then  lay  a  straight  trail  fer  me  ter 
loiter."  " 


48  The  Treasure  Seeker. 

"He  was  sick." 

"Is  that  whatever?  Wa'al,  denied  ef  I  could  seem  ter 
cut  his  trail  anywhar  I  went,  an'  I  made  a  great  hustle 
fer  it." 

"He  was  in  the  hut  where  you  saw  us." 

"Wa'al,  dern  my  skin!  Ef  I'd  knowed  thet,  I'd  made 
a  straight  run  fer  thet  yere  ranch,  bet  yer  boots !" 

"He  came  to  the  door,  and  shouted  to  you." 

"You  don't  tell  me  thet !  An'  I  didn't  hear  him !  Wa'al, 
wa'al !  Whar  wuz  my  ears  ?  Whar  is  he  now  ?" 

"Dead." 

Bushnell  reeled. 

"Is  he  that  ?"  he  gasped,  recovering.  "An'  I  didn't  get 
to  see  him !  Say,  this  clean  upsets  me,  sure  as  shootin' !" 

The  man  seemed  greatly  affected. 

"Poor  old  Jack !"  he  muttered.  "We've  made  many  a 
tramp  together,  an'  we  struck  it  rich  at  last,  but  he'll  never 
git  ther  good  of  thet  thar  strike." 

Then  he  seemed  to  remember  that  he  was  watched  by 
several  eyes,  and  he  straightened  up,  passing  his  hand  over 
his  face. 

"Jack  shall  hev  a  big  monumint,"  he  cried.  "Tell  me 
whar  my  old  pard  is  planted." 

"That  is  something  I  do  not  know,  Mr.  Bushnell." 

The  man  was  astonished. 

"Don't  know ?  Why,  how's  thet?" 

Frank  told  the  entire  story  of  Burk's  death  and  mys 
terious  disappearance,  to  which  Bushnell  listened,  with 
breathless  interest.  When  it  was  finished,  the  man  cried : 

"Thet  thar  beats  me !  I  don't  understand  it,  none  what 
ever." 

"No  more  do  I,"  confessed  Frank.  "There  is  no  doubt 
but  Burk  was  dead,  and  the  corpse  did  not  walk  away  of 
its  own  accord.  It  was  my  intention  to  investigate  the 
mystery,  but  later  events  prevented." 

Frank  then  explained  about  the  kidnaping  of  Professor 
Scotch  by  the  bandits. 

While  the  boy  was  relating  this,  Bushnell  was  closely 
studying  the  guide's  face,  as  revealed  by  the  firelight. 
Frank  noted  that  a  strange  look  seemed  to  come  into  the 
eyes  of  the  Westerner,  and  he  appeared  to  be  holding  him 
self  in  check. 


The  Treasure  Seeker.  49 

When  this  explanation  was  finished,  Bushnell  asked : 

"And  you  are  on  your  way  ter  Huejugilla  el  Alto  with 
ther  hope  of  rescuin'  ther  professor?" 

"We  are,"  replied  Frank. 

"You  pet  my  life,"  nodded  Hans. 

"This  is  the  guide  who  was  recommended  to  you  in 
Zacatecas  ?" 

"Yes." 

"You  trust  him  fully?" 

"We  are  obliged  to  do  so." 

"Wa'al,  boys,  ef  this  yere  critter  can't  take  yer  straight 
ter  Pacheco,  nobody  kin." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Jest  this!"  cried  Bushnell,  explosively;  "this  yere 
Greaser  galoot  w'at  yer  calls  Pedro  is  nobody  but  Ferez !" 

"Who  is  Ferez?" 

"He's  Pacheco's  lieutenant !" 

Frank  uttered  a  cry  of  amazement  and  anger,  wheeling 
quickly  on  the  Mexican,  his  hand  seeking  the  butt  of  a 
revolver. 

But  the  dark-faced  rascal  seemed  ready  for  such  an  ex 
posure,  for,  with  a  yell  of  defiance,  he  dropped  behind  his 
horse,  and  the  animal  shot  like  a  rocket  from  the  firelight 
into  the  shadows  which  lay  thick  on  the  desert. 

Bushnell  opened  up  with  a  brace  of  revolvers,  sending 
a  dozen  bullets  whistling  after  the  fellow,  in  less  than  as 
many  seconds. 

At  the  first  shot,  Hans  Dunnerwust  fell  off  his  horse, 
striking  on  his  back  on  the  sand,  where  he  lay,  faintly 
gurgling : 

"Uf  you  don'd  shood  der  odder  vay,  I  vos  a  tead  man !" 

"Don't  let  him  escape  with  a  whole  skin !"  shouted 
Frank,  as  he  began  to  work  a  revolver,  although  he  was 
blinded  by  the  flashes  from  Bushnell's  weapon  so  that  he 
was  forced  to  shoot  by  guess. 

Ferez  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life,  for  he  fled  straight 
on  into  the  night,  sending  back  a  mocking  shout  of  laugh 
ter.  From  far  out  on  the  waste,  he  cried : 

"Bah,  Gringo  dogs !  You  cannot  harm  me !  I  will  see 
you  again,  Americcmoes.  This  is  not  the  last." 

With  an  angry  exclamation  of  disappointment  and  an- 


50  The  Treasure  Seeker. 

ger,  Bushnell  flung  his  empty  revolvers  on  the  sand  at 
his  feet. 

"Dern  me  fer  a  fool !"  he  roared.  "Ef  I'd  done  my 
shootin'  first  an'  my  talkin'  arterward,  he  wouldn't  got 
away." 

But  Ferez  had  escaped,  and  they  could  only  make  the 
best  of  it. 

When  this  was  over  and  the  excitement  had  subsided, 
they  sat  about  the  fire  and  discussed  the  situation.  Frank 
then  showed  the  golden  image  which  Burk  had  given  him, 
and  explained  how  the  dying  man  had  told  of  the  Silver 
Palace. 

Bushnell  listened  quietly,  a  cloud  on  his  face.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  story,  he  rose  to  his  feet,  saying : 

"Ef  Jack  Burk  made  you  his  heir,  thet  goes,  an'  I  ain't 
kickin'  none  whatever.  Old  Jack  didn't  hev  no  relatives, 
so  he  hed  a  right  to  make  any  galoot  his  heir.  But  thar's 
goin'  ter  be  plenty  of  worry  fer  anybody  as  tries  ter 
reach  ther  Silver  Palace.  How'd  you  'spect  ter  git  'crost 
ther  chasm  ?" 

"As  yet,  I  have  not  taken  that  into  consideration.  The 
kidnaping  of  Professor  Scotch  has  banished  thoughts  of 
everything  else  from  my  mind." 

"Wa'al,  ef  Jack  Burk  made  you  his  heir,  you're  en 
titled  ter  your  half  of  ther  treasure,  providin'  you're  ready 
ter  stand  your  half  of  ther  expenses  ef  we  fail  ter  git 
than" 

"You  may  depend  on  me  so  far  as  that  is  concerned." 

"Wa'al,  then,  you  see  I  hev  three  hawses.  One  is  fer 
me  ter  ride,  another  is  ter  kerry  provisions,  and  ther  third 
is  ter  tote  ther  balloon." 

"The  balloon !" 

"Thet's  whatever.  I  hev  another  balloon  with  which  ter 
cross  thet  thar  chasm.  It's  ther  only  way  ter  git  over.  In 
crossin'  ther  balloon  will  be  loaded  with  a  ballast  of  sand ; 
but  when  we  come  back,  ther  ballast  will  be  pure  gold!" 


CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  PROFESSOR'S  ESCAPE. 

They  did  not  expect  to  reach  Huejugilla  el  Alto  with 
out  being  molested  by  bandits,  for  it  was  presumed  that 
Pacheco's  lieutenant  would  carry  the  word  to  his  chief, 
and  the  desperadoes  would  lose  no  time  in  moving  against 
them. 

Knowing  their  danger,  they  were  exceedingly  cautious, 
traveling  much  by  night,  and  keeping  in  concealment  by 
day,  and,  to  their  surprise,  the  bandits  made  no  descent 
upon  them. 

Huejugilla  el  Alto  proved  to  be  a  wild  and  picturesque 
place.  Being  far  from  the  line  of  railroad,  it  had  not  even 
felt  the  touch  of  Northern  civilization,  and  the  boys  felt 
as  if  they  had  been  transported  back  to  the  seventeenth 
century. 

"Hyar,  lads,"  said  Bushnell,  "yer  will  see  a  town  thet's 
clean  Greaser  all  ther  way  through,  an'  it's  ten  ter  one 
thar  ain't  nary  galoot  besides  ourselves  in  ther  durned  old 
place  thet  kin  say  a  word  of  United  States." 

The  Westerner  could  talk  Spanish  after  a  fashion,  and 
that  was  about  all  the  natives  of  Huejugilla  el  Alto  were 
able  to  do,  with  the  exception  of  the  few  whose  blood 
was  untainted,  and  who  claimed  to  be  aristocrats. 

However,  for  all  of  their  strange  dialect  and  his  im 
perfect  Spanish,  Bushnell  succeeded  in  making  himself 
understood,  so  they  found  lodgings  at  a  low,  rambling 
adobe  building,  which  served  as  a  hotel.  They  paid  in 
advance  for  one  day,  and  were  well  satisfied  with  the 
price,  although  Bushnell  declared  it  was  at  least  double 
ordinary  rates. 

"We  ain't  likely  ter  be  long  in  town  before  Ferez  locates 
us  an'  comes  arter  his  hawses.  Ther  derned  bandits  are 
bold  enough  'long  ther  line  of  ther  railroad,  but  they  lay 
'way  over  thet  out  hyar.  Wuss  then  all,  ther  people  of 
ther  towns  kinder  stand  in  with  ther  pizen  varmints." 

"Stand  in  with  them — how?" 


52  The  Professors  Escape. 

"Why,  hide  'em  when  ther  soldiers  is  arter  'em,  an* 
don't  bother  'em  at  any  other  time." 

"I  presume  they  are  afraid  of  the  bandits,  which  ex 
plains  why  they  do  so." 

"Afeared  ?  Wa'al,  I'll  allow  as  how  they  may  be ;  but 
then  thar's  something  of  ther  bandit  in  ev'ry  blamed 
Greaser  I  ever  clapped  peepers  on.  They're  onery,  they 
are." 

Frank  had  noted  that  almost  all  Westerners  who  min 
gled  much  with  the  people  of  Mexico  held  Spaniards  and 
natives  alike  in  contempt,  calling  them  all  "Greasers." 
He  could  not  understand  this,  for,  as  he  had  observed,  the 
people  of  the  country  were  exceedingly  polite  and  chiv 
alrous,  treating  strangers  with  the  utmost  courtesy,  if 
courtesy  were  given  in  return.  Rudeness  seemed  to  shock 
and  wound  them,  causing  them  to  draw  within  themselves, 
as  a  turtle  draws  into  its  shell.  Indeed,  so  polite  were  the 
people  that  Frank  came  to  believe  that  a  bandit  who  had 
decided  to  cut  a  man's  throat  and  rob  him  would  first  beg 
a  man's  pardon  for  such  rudeness,  and  then  proceed  about 
the  job  with  the  greatest  skill,  suavity,  and  gentleness. 

Having  settled  at  the  hotel,  Bushnell  ordered  a  square 
meal,  and,  when  it  was  served,  they  proceeded  to  satisfy 
the  hunger  which  had  grown  upon  them  with  their  jour 
ney  across  the  desert. 

Bushnell  also  took  care  to  look  after  the  horses  and 
equipments  himself. 

"Ef  Ferez  calls  fer  his  hawses,  I  don't  want  him  ter  git 
away  with  this  yar  balloon  an'  gas  generator,"  said  the 
Westerner,  as  he  saw  the  articles  mentioned  were  placed 
under  lock  and  key.  "Ef  we  should  lose  them,  it'd  be 
all  up  with  us  so  fur  as  gittin'  ter  ther  Silver  Palace  is  con 
cerned." 

Frank  expected  to  hear  something  from  Pacheco  as 
soon  as  Huejugilla  el  Alto  was  reached,  but  he  found  no 
message  awaiting  him. 

"Poor  professor!"  he  said.  "I  expect  he  has  suffered 
untold  torments  since  he  was  kidnaped." 

"Yah,"  nodded  Hans.  "Uf  Brofessor  Scotch  don'd 
peen  britty  sick  uf  dis  vild  life  mit  Mexico,  you  vos  a 
liar." 

That  night  they  were  sitting  outside  the  hotel  when 


The  Professor's  Escape.  53 

they  heard  a  great  commotion  at  the  southern  end  of  the 
town. 

"Vot  vos  dot?"  gasped  the  Dutch  boy,  in  alarm. 
"Sounds  like  dere  vos  drouple  aroundt  dot  legality." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Frank,  feeling  for  his  revolvers ; 
"and  it  is  coming  this  way  as  fast  as  it  can." 

"Mebbe  another  revolution  has  broke  out,"  observed 
Bushnell,  lazily.  "Best  git  under  kiver,  an'  let  ther  circus 
go  by." 

They  could  hear  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs,  the  crack 
ing  of  pistols,  and  a  mingling  of  wild  cries. 

All  at  once  Frank  Merriwell  became  somewhat  ex 
cited. 

"On  my  life,  I  believe  I  hear  the  voice  of  Professor 
Scotch!"  he  shouted. 

"Yah!"  said  Hans,  "I  belief  I  hear  dot,  too!" 

"They  may  be  bringin'  ther  professor  in,"  said  Bush 
nell.  "Ef  he's  thar,  we'll  take  an  interest  in  ther  case, 
you  bet  yer  boots !" 

Into  the  hotel  he  dashed,  and,  in  a  moment,  he  returned 
with  his  Winchester. 

Along  the  street  came  a  horseman,  clinging  to  the  back 
of  an  unsaddled  animal,  closely  pursued  by  at  least  twenty 
wild  riders,  some  of  whom  were  shooting  at  the  legs  of 
the  fleeing  horse,  while  one  was  whirling  a  lasso  to  make 
a  cast  that  must  bring  the  animal  to  a  sudden  halt. 

"Ten  to  one,  the  fugitive  is  the  professor !"  shouted 
Frank,  peering  through  the  dusk. 

"Then,  I  reckon  we'll  hev  ter  chip  in  right  hyar  an' 
now,"  said  Bushnell,  calmly. 

He  flung  the  Winchester  to  his  shoulder,  and  a  spout  of 
fire  streamed  from  the  muzzle  in  an  instant. 

The  fellow  who  was  whirling  the  lasso  flung  up  his 
arm  and  plunged  headlong  from  the  horse's  back  to  the 
dust  of  the  street. 

"Professor !  professor !"  shouted  Frank.  "Stop — stop 
here !" 

"Can't  do  it,"  came  back  the  reply.  "The  horse  won't 
stop!" 

"Jump  off — fall  off — get  off  some  way!" 

"All  right !  here  goes !" 

In  another  moment  Professor  Scotch,  for  it  really  was 


54  The  Professor's  Escape. 

that  individual,  flung  himself  from  the  back  of  the  animal 
he  had  ridden,  struck  the  ground,  rolled  over  and  over 
like  a  ball,  and  lay  still  within  thirty  feet  of  Frank,  groan 
ing  dolefully. 

In  the  meantime,  Al  Bushnell  was  working  his  Win 
chester  in  a  manner  that  was  simply  amazing,  for  a  steady 
stream  of  fire  seemed  to  pour  from  the  muzzle  of  the 
weapon,  and  the  cracking  of  the  weapon  echoed  through 
the  streets  of  Huejugilla  el  Alto  like  the  rattling  fire  from 
a  line  of  infantry. 

After  that  first  shot  Bushnell  lowered  the  muzzle  of  his 
weapon,  as,  in  most  cases  at  short  range,  his  motto  was 
to  "shoot  low,"  for  he  well  knew  more  lead  could  be 
wasted  by  shooting  too  high  than  in  any  other  manner. 

In  about  three  seconds  he  had  thrown  the  pursuing 
bandits  into  the  utmost  confusion,  for  they  had  never  be 
fore  encountered  such  a  reception  in  Huejugilla  el  Alto, 
and  it  was  the  last  thing  they  had  expected.  With  all  pos 
sible  haste,  they  reined  about  and  took  to  flight,  hearing 
the  bullets  whistling  about  them,  or  feeling  their  horses 
leap  madly  at  the  sting  of  lead  or  go  plunging  to  the 
ground. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  town  had  fled  into  their  houses 
before  the  rush  of  the  bandits,  so  there  was  little  danger 
that  any  of  Bushnell's  bullets  would  reach  innocent  per 
sons. 

The  confusion  and  rout  of  the  bandits  was  brought 
about  in  a  few  seconds,  and  Bushnell  was  heard  to  mut 
ter: 

"One  white  man  is  good  fer  a  hundred  onery  Greasers 
any  time !  Ther  derned  skunks  hain't  got  a  blamed  bit  of 
sand!" 

Frank  ran  and  lifted  the  fallen  professor,  flinging  the 
man  across  his  shoulder,  and  carrying  him  into  the  hotel. 

Hans  followed  with  frantic  haste,  and  Bushnell  came 
sauntering  lazily  in  after  the  bandits  had  been  routed  and 
driven  back. 

"Are  you  badly  hurl,  professor?"  asked  Frank,  anx 
iously. 

"I'm  killed !"  groaned  Scotch,  dolefully.  "I'm  shot  full 
of  holes,  and  every  bone  in  my  body  is  broken !  Farewell, 


The  Professor's  Escape.  55 

my  boy !  We'll  meet  in  a  better  land,  where  there  are  no 
bandits  to  molest  or  make  afraid." 

"Where  are  you  shot?" 

"Everywhere — all  over!  You  can't  touch  me  where 
I'm  not  shot !  They  fired  more  than  four  hundred  bullets 
through  me !  I  am  so  full  of  holes  that  I  wonder  you  can 
see  me  at  all !" 

Bushnell  made  a  hasty  examination  of  the  professor, 
who  lay  on  the  floor,  groaning  faintly,  his  eyes  closed. 

"Look  hyar,  pard,"  said  the  Westerner,  roughly,  "ef 
you  want  ter  pass  in  yer  chips  ye'll  hev  ter  stand  up  an' 
let  me  put  a  few  more  holes  in  yer.  I  can't  find  a  place 
whar  you're  touched  by  a  bullet  an'  I'm  blowed  ef  I  'low 
you  broke  a  bone  when  ye  tumbled  from  ther  hawse." 

The  professor  sat  up  with  a  sudden  snap. 

"What's  that ?"  he  cried.  "I'm  not  shot?  I'm  not  all 
broke  up?  Is  it  possible?  Can  I  believe  you?" 

"Yah,"  nodded  Hans,  gravely ;  "I  can  belief  me.  You 
vas  all  righdt  brofessor,  und  dot  is  sdraight." 

"Wow!"  shouted  Scotch,  bounding  to  his  feet  like  a 
rubber  ball.  "That's  what  I  call  great  luck!  Why,  I 
thought  I  must  be  killed  sure!  I  don't  know  how  I  es 
caped  all  those  bullets.  And  then  the  fall!  Providence 
must  have  been  with  me." 

"Veil,  I  don'd  know  apoudt  dot  pefore  you  come  der 
town  in,"  said  Hans;  "but  you  vos  alone  mit  yourself 
when  we  saw  you,  brofessor." 

The  landlord  of  the  hotel  came  bustling  up  in  a  perfect 
tumult  of  terror,  wringing  his  hands  and  almost  weeping. 

"Oh,  senors !"  he  cried,  in  Spanish,  "what  have  you 
done  ?  You  have  ruined  me !  You  stopped  at  my  house, 
and  you  shoot  the  ladrones.  Ah,  senors,  you  know  not 
what  that  means  to  me.  Pacheco  will  come  down  on  me — 
he  will  raid  my  house;  I  am  a  ruined  man,  and  you  are 
responsible  for  it.  You  must  leave  my  house  without  de 
lay  !  If  you  remain  here,  the  whole  town  will  rise  against 
me!  All  the  people  will  know  this  must  make  Pacheco 
very  angry,  and  they  will  know  he  must  take  revenge  on 
the  place.  They  will  be  angry  with  me  because  I  allow  it. 
Carramba!  How  could  I  help  it?  I  could  do  nothing. 
It  came,  and  it  was  all  over  before  I  know  what  was  doing. 


56  The  Professor's  Escape. 

Senors,  you  must  have  pity  on  me — you  must  leave  my 
house  immeditely." 

Bushnell  caught  enough  of  this  to  translate  it  to  the 
others. 

"Ther  best  thing  we  kin  do  is  ter  git  out  instanter,"  he 
said.  "Ef  we  wait,  ther  outlaws  will  watch  every  road 
out  of  ther  town,  an'  we'll  hev  trouble  in  gittin'  away." 

"Then  let's  get  away  immediately,"  fluttered  the  pro 
fessor.  "If  I  fall  into  their  hands  again,  I'm  a  dead 
man !" 

"Yes,  we  will  get  out  immediately,"  decided  Frank; 
"but  we'll  do  it  as  secretly  and  silently  as  possible." 

Bushnell  nodded  his  satisfaction,  and,  thirty  minutes 
later,  the  party  was  ready  to  move.  They  left  the  hotel 
by  a  back  way,  and,  guided  by  the  landlord,  made  their 
way  along  dark  and  narrow  streets,  creeping  cautiously 
through  the  town  till  the  outskirts  were  reached. 

There  Frank  gave  the  landlord  some  money,  and,  after 
calling  down  blessings  on  their  heads,  he  quickly  slipped 
away  and  disappeared. 

"Now  we'll  hustle  right  along,"  said  the  Westerner. 
"We'll  put  a  good  long  stretch  between  ourselves  an* 
Huejugilla  el  Alto  before  mornin'.  We're  off,  bound 
straight  inter  ther  mountains " 

"And  straight  for  the  Silver  Palace,"  added  Frank. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE     STRANGER. 

They  wwe  fortunate  in  getting  away  without  being 
seen  by  any  of  the  bandits,  and  at  dawn  they  were  well  up 
into  the  mountains,  where  Bushnell  found  a  secluded 
place  for  them  to  camp  and  rest,  as  rest  was  something  of 
which  they  all  sorely  stood  in  need. 

Bushnell  prepared  breakfast,  and  Frank  insisted  that 
Professor  Scotch  should  explain  how  he  escaped  from 
Pacheco's  gang. 

"Don't  ask  me,"  sighed  the  little  man,  fondling  his  red 
whiskers.  "I  can't  explain  it — really  I  can't." 

"Why  not?" 

"Well,  you  see,  I  don't  know  how  I  happened  to  do  it. 
They  forced  me  to  write  that  letter  against  my  will,  tw* 
of  them  standing  over  me  with  drawn  daggers  while  I 
was  writing,  and  prodding  me  a  bit  whenever  I  refused 
to  put  down  the  words  Pacheco  ordered  written." 

"Then  Pacheco  speaks  English  ?" 

"As  well  as  I  do?" 

"What  does  he  look  like?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"How  is  that?" 

"He  kept  his  face  concealed  with  his  serape  quite  up  to 
his  eyes." 

"Thar's  a  mystery  about  Pacheco,"  broke  in  Bushnell. 
"No  one  seems  ter  know  jest  what  ther  varmint  looks 
like." 

"Go  on,  professor,"  urged  Frank;  "tell  us  just  how  you 
escaped." 

"I  tell  you  I  do  not  know  myself.  All  I  know  is  that 
they  tied  me  to  a  horse,  and  brought  me  across  a  plain 
of  burning  sand,  where  I  nearly  perished  for  want  of 
water,  and  was  nearly  sawed  in  two  by  the  backbone  of 
the  horse  I  rode.  I  believed  it  was  a  case  of  gone  goose 
with  me.  At  last  they  camped  in  a  wild  spot,  and  I  was 
so  badly  used  up  that  I  could  scarcely  eat  or  do  anything 


58  The  Stranger. 

but  lay  around  and  groan.  They  seemed  to  think  there 
was  no  need  of  watching  me  very  closely,  and  I  noticed 
that  I  was  alone  sometimes.  Then,  feeling  utterly  reck 
less,  I  began  to  watch  for  a  chance  to  sneak  away.  I 
didn't  care  if  I  were  shot,  or  if  I  escaped  and  perished 
from  hunger  and  thirst.  I  was  bound  to  make  the  at 
tempt.  Last  night  I  made  it.  A  saddleless  horse  strayed 
along  where  I  was,  and  I  made  a  jump  for  the  animal. 
Before  they  knew  what  I  was  doing,  I  was  on  the  beast's 
back  and  yelling  into  its  ears  like  a  maniac.  The  horse 
scooted  out  of  the  camp,  and  I  clung  on.  The  bandits  pur 
sued  me,  and  everything  else  is  a  haze  till  I  heard  Frank 
calling  for  me  to  jump  off.  I  recognized  his  voice  and 
fell  off  the  horse,  although  I  had  not  the  least  idea  in  the 
world  where  I  was." 

"Wa'al,"  chuckled  Bushnell,  "thet's  w'at  I  call  dead  fool 
luck,  beggin'  yer  pardon  fer  speakin'  so  open  like,  at 
which  I  means  no  harm  whatever." 

"Oh,  ye  needn't  beg  my  pardon,"  quickly  said  Professor 
Scotch.  "I  don't  want  any  credit  for  getting  away.  It 
wasn't  a  case  of  brains  at  all." 

Breakfast  was  prepared,  and  they  ate  heartily,  after 
which  Frank,  Hans,  and  the  professor  lay  down  to  sleep, 
while  Bushnell  smoked  a  black  pipe. 

But  even  Bushnell  was  not  made  of  iron,  and  the  pipe 
soothed  him  to  slumber,  so  the  entire  party  slept,  with 
no  one  to  guard. 

All  at  once,  some  hours  later,  they  were  awakened  by 
an  exclamation  from  Frank,  who  sat  up  and  stared  at  the 
form  of  a  stranger,  the  latter  being  quietly  squatting  in 
their  midst,  calmly  puffing  at  a  cigarette,  while  his  poncho 
was  wrapped  about  him  to  his  hips. 

Frank's  exclamation  awakened  Bushnell  like  an  electric 
shock,  and,  even  as  his  eyes  opened,  his  hand  shot  out,  the 
fingers  grasping  the  butt  of  a  revolver  that  was  pointed 
straight  at  the  stranger. 

"Stiddy,  thar !"  called  the  Westerner.  "I  hev  ther  drop 
on  yer,  an'  I'll  sock  yer  full  of  lead  ef  yer  wiggle  a  toe- 
nail  !  You  hear  me  chirp !" 

The  stranger  continued  smoking,  his  coal-black  eyes 
being  the  only  part  of  him  to  move,  for  all  of  the  threat 
ening  revolver. 


The  Stranger.  59 

Hans  sat  up,  gasping: 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !  Der  pandits  haf  caught  us  al- 
retty  soon !" 

At  this  Professor  Scotch  gave  a  groan  of  dismay, 
faintly  gurgling : 

"Then  I'm  a  goner !" 

That  the  stranger  was  a  half-blood  could  be  seen  at  a 
glance. 

"Drap  thet  cigaroot,  an'  give  an  account  of  yerself  in- 
stanter  right  off!"  ordered  Bushnell,  threateningly. 
"Who  in  blazes  be  yer?" 

The  cigarette  fell  from  the  man's  lips,  and  he  answered : 

"I  am  Rodeo." 

"Wa'al,  who  is  Rodeo?" 

"The  brother  of  Pacheco." 

"Don't  I  toldt  you  dot !"  panted  the  Dutch  boy. 

Professor  Scotch  groaned  again,  and  rolled  a  little 
farther  from  the  half-blood,  but  still  made  no  effort  to  sit 
up. 

"Wa'al,  dern  your  skin !"  cried  Bushnell.  "You've  got 
a  nerve  to  come  hyar !  I  s'pose  Pacheco  an'  his  gang  of 
onery  varmints  is  within  whoopin'  distance  ?" 

"I  am  alone ;  there  is  no  one  within  call." 

"Wa'al,  w'at  be  yer  hyar  fer,  thet's  what  I  wants  ter 
know?" 

"I  found  you  asleep,  and  I  came  to  warn  you." 

"Of  what?" 

"Danger.  The  ladrones  are  on  your  trail  already.  Be 
fore  the  sun  ?inks  behind  the  mountains  they  will  be  here. 
If  you  are  not  gone,  you  must  all  fall  into  their  hands." 

Bushne'8  looked  doubtful  and  suspicious,  while  a  puz 
zled  expression  came  into  his  bronzed  face. 

"Look  hyar,"  he  said;  "you're  up  ter  some  game,  an* 
I'm  derned  ef  I  know  what  she  am,  but  yer  wants  ter 
understand  yer  can't  monkey  with  this  old  coon  none 
whatever.  I  hold  the  drop  on  yer,  Old  Socks,  an'  I  may 
take  a  fancy  ter  bore  yer  once  jest  fer  fun,  so  ye'd  best 
talk  straight  an'  squar',  an'  be  lively  about  it." 

"Yah,"  nodded  Hans,  threateningly,  "you  petter  peen 
in  a  plamed  pig  hurry  apoudt  dot  talking  pusiness." 

"What  do  you  wish  me  to  say,  senors  ?" 

"Explain  why  you're  hyar  ter  warn  us." 


60  The  Stranger. 

"Because  I'm  the  brother  of  Pacheco." 

"Thet  don't  go  down  with  this  old  coon.  Pacheco  is 
ther  leader  of  ther  bandits." 

"He  was  the  leader  of  the  bandits." 

"Was  the  leader?" 

"Si,  senor." 

"An'  ain't  he  now  ?" 

"No,  senor." 

"How  long  since?" 

"At  least  one  month." 

"Oh,  say,  thet  thar  won't  do — I  tells  yer  it  won't,  fer 
we  know  er  blamed  sight  better !  Rodeo,  lying  is  danger 
ous  with  me  'round." 

"Senor,  I  do  not  lie ;  I  tell  you  the  truth.  One  month 
ago  Pacheco  was  the  leader  of  the  band ;  now  he  is  dead, 
and  another  is  in  his  place.  This  other  killed  him  in  a 
battle,  and  by  that  he  won  the  right  to  be  leader  of  the 
band.  He  has  taken  my  brother's  name,  and  he  calls  him 
self  Pacheco.  Senors,  I  swear  to  you  I  speak  the  truth — 
I  swear  by  all  the  saints !  My  brother  is  dead,  and  there  is 
an  impostor  in  his  place." 

Frank  was  impressed,  and  his  hand  fell  on  Bushnell's 
arm. 

"I  believe  the  fellow  really  speaks  the  truth,"  he  said. 
"He  seems  sincere,  and  his  eyes  are  square  and  steady." 

"Yer  can't  tell  about  ther  skunks,"  muttered  the  West 
erner  ;  "but  still  this  one  does  seem  ter  be  layin'  a  straight 
trail." 

"I  have  taken  my  oath,"  continued  the  half-blood,  a 
red  light  in  his  dark  eyes — "I  have  sworn  to  kill  the  mur 
derer  of  my  brother,  and  I  will  keep  the  oath.  That's  why 
I  am  here.  I  have  been  watching  the  band  for  two  weeks ; 
'I  know  every  move  they  will  make.  I  know  when  you 
leave  Huejugilla  el  Alto,  and  I  know  they  will  follow.  I 
make  sure  of  that,  and  then,  with  my  heart  full  of  joy,  I 
ride  fast  in  advance.  At  last — at  last  they  go  to  my  coun 
try  in  the  mountains !  My  people  are  there — my  other 
brothers,  my  cousins,  my  relatives.  They  will  all  stand  by 
me,  and  they  will  be  ready  to  avenge  Pacheco.  The  wrath 
of  my  people  shall  fall  on  the  head  of  the  impostor !  You 
wonder  why  I  warn  you  ?  I  will  explain.  You  are  bound 
far  in  the  mountains,  and  the  false  Pacheco  will  follow. 


The  Stranger.  6\ 

If  you  are  captured,  he  may  turn  back.  I  want  him  to  fol 
low  you — I  want  you  to  lead  him  into  the  snare.  That 
is  why  I  am  here,  and  that  is  why  I  have  warned  you, 
senors.  It  is  done,  and  now  I  will  go." 

He  arose  to  his  feet,  heedless  of  Bushnell's  command  to 
"keep  still,"  and  strode  toward  the  horses.  They  saw  an 
extra  animal  was  there,  and,  in  a  moment,  he  had  flung 
himself  on  the  creature's  back. 

"Buenos  dias,  senores." 

A  clatter  of  hoofs,  the  flutter  of  a  poncho,  and  a  crim 
son  scrape,  and  Rodeo's  horse  was  galloping  up  the  ra 
vine  that  still  led  deeper  into  the  mountains.  Man  and 
horse  soon  vanished  from  view. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  AWAKENING  VOLCANO. 

Two  days  later,  shortly  after  sunset,  the  party  camped 
far  in  the  depths  of  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains. 

The  words  of  Rodeo,  the  half-blood,  had  proved  true, 
for  they  were  pursued  by  the  bandits,  but,  thanks  to  the 
skill  of  Bushnell,  they  had  been  able  to  give  the  des 
peradoes  the  slip. 

"By  ther  end  of  another  day  we  oughter  be  able  ter 
clap  our  peepers  on  ther  Silver  Palace,"  declared  the 
Westerner. 

Professor  Scotch  was  now  as  eager  as  any  of  them  to 
see  the  wonderful  palace,  all  his  doubts  having  been  dis 
pelled  by  Bushnell's  straightforward  narrative  of  the  dis 
covery  of  the  place  by  himself  and  Jack  Burk. 

"I  wonder  what  causes  that  column  of  smoke  we  saw 
rising  amid  the  mountains  to  the  westward  to-day  ?"  said 
Frank. 

Bushnell  shook  his  head. 

"Thet  thar  has  troubled  me  some,"  he  admitted.  "It 
seems  ter  be  fair  an*  squar'  in  ther  direction  of  ther  Sil 
ver  Palace." 

"Maype  dose  pandits  peen  aheadt  uf  us  und  purn  der 
balace  up,"  suggested  Hans,  with  an  air  of  very  great  wis 
dom. 

"I  scarcely  think  they  would  be  able  to  burn  a  building 
made  of  stone,  gold,  and  silver,"  smiled  Frank. 

"Wa'al,  not  much,"  said  Bushnell.  "Ther  palace  will  be 
thar  when  we  arrive.  You  needn't  worry  about  thet." 

They  were  very  tired,  and,  feeling  secure  in  the  depths 
of  a  narrow  ravine,  they  soon  slept,  with  the  exception  of 
Frank,  who  had  the  first  watch. 

The  moon  came  up  over  the  mountain  peaks,  which 
stood  out  plainly  in  the  clear  light,  every  gorge  and  fis 
sure  being  cut  black  as  ink,  and  showing  with  wonderful 
distinctness. 

The  shadow  was  deep  in  the  narrow  ravine,  and  Frank 


The  Awakening  Volcano.  63 

sat  with  his  back  to  a  wall  of  rock,  looking  upward,  when 
he  was  startled  to  see  a  figure  rise  in  the  bright  moon 
light. 

On  the  brink  of  the  ravine  above  stood  a  man  who 
seemed  to  be  peering  down  at  them. 

"Awaken !"  cried  this  man,  in  a  loud  voice.  "You  are  in 
great  danger!" 

The  cry  aroused  every  sleeper,  and  Bushnell  started  up 
with  his  Winchester  clutched  ready  for  use. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

Frank  clutched  his  arm,  gasping : 

"Merciful  goodness !  look  there — look  at  that  man's 
face !  Can  the  dead  return  to  life  ?" 

He  pointed  at  the  man  on  the  brink  of  the  ravine  above 
them.  The  light  of  the  moon  fell  fairly  on  the  face  of 
this  man,  which  was  plainly  revealed  to  every  one  of  the 
startled  and  thunderstruck  party. 

"Move  lively,  down  there !"  cried  the  man,  with  a  warn 
ing  gesture. 

"There  have  been  spies  upon  you,  and  Pacheco  knows 
where  you  have  stopped  for  the  night." 

Bushnell  dropped  his  rifle,  clutching  at  the  neck  of  his 
shirt,  and  gasping  for  breath. 

"By  ther  livin'  gods !"  he  shouted,  "it's  my  pard,  Jack 
Burk,  or  it's  his  spook !" 

"Id  vas  a  sbook !"  gurgled  Hans  Dunnerwust,  quivering 
with  fear.  "Id  vos  der  sbook  uf  der  man  vot  we  seen  deat 
as  a  toornail !" 

In  truth,  the  man  on  the  brink  of  the  ravine  looked  like 
Jack  Burk,  who  had  been  declared  dead  in  the  adobe  hut 
near  Mendoza. 

"It  is  a  resemblance — it  must  be  a  resemblance !"  mut 
tered  Frank. 

Once  more  the  man  above  uttered  a  warning: 

"You  were  trailed  by  a  spy,"  he  declared.  "The  spy 
saw  you  camp  here,  and  he  has  gone  to  bring  Pacheco  and 
the  bandits.  They  will  be  here  soon.  If  you  escape,  you 
must  move  without  further  delay." 

"It  not  only  looks  like  my  pard,"  said  Bushnell, 
hoarsely,  "but  it  has  ther  voice  of  my  pard!  Ef  Jack 
Burk  is  dead,  thet  shore  is  his  spook !" 


64  The  Awakening  Volcano. 

And  then,  as  suddenly  as  he  had  appeared,  the  man 
above  vanished  from  view. 

"Gone!"  gasped  Professor  Scotch,  wiping  the  cold 
perspiration  from  his  face.  "I  never  took  stock  in  ghosts 
before,  but  now " 

"Remember  his  warning,"  cut  in  Frank.  "We  had  bet 
ter  heed  it." 

"Dot  vos  righd,"  nodded  Hans. 

"Yes,  thet's  right,"  agreed  Bushnell.  "We'll  git  out  of 
hyar  in  a  howlin'  hurry.  Ef  Jack  Burk  is  dead,  then  thet 
wuz  his  spook  come  to  warn  his  old  pard." 

There  was  saddling  and  packing  in  hot  haste,  and  the 
little  party  was  soon  moving  along  the  ravine. 

For  at  least  thirty  minutes  they  hastened  onward,  and 
then  the  Westerner  found  a  place  where  the  horses  could 
climb  the  sloping  wall  of  the  ravine  and  get  out  of  the 
gorge.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  make  the  animals  struggle 
to  the  top,  but  Bushnell  succeeded  in  forcing  them  all  up. 
When  the  party  was  out  of  the  ravine  every  one  breathed 
with  greater  freedom. 

"There,"  said  Frank,  "I  do  not  feel  as  if  we  might  be 
caught  like  rats  in  a  trap." 

Frank  was  the  last  to  move  from  the  ravine,  and,  just 
as  he  was  about  to  do  so,  he  seemed  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  something  moving  silently  in  the  darkness. 

"Hist !"  came  the  warning  from  his  lips.  "Come  here, 
Bushnell — professor,  Hans,  stay  with  the  horses.  Be 
cautious,  and  come  lively." 

He  flung  himself  on  his  face  in  the  shadow  of  a  great 
bowlder,  and  peered  down  into  the  darkness  below. 

The  Westerner  and  the  professor  came  creeping  to  his 
side. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Bushnell. 

"Look,"  directed  Frank.    "What  do  you  make  of  it?" 

Peering  down  into  the  dark  depths  of  the  gorge,  they 
saw  black  figures  flitting  silently  past,  men  and  horses,  as 
they  were  able  to  make  out. 

"Horsemen!"  breathed  the  professor.  "They  must  be 
the  bandits !" 

"But  look!"  came  cautiously  from  Frank's  lips;  "they 
are  riding  swiftly,  yet  the  feet  of  their  horses  make  no 
sound  1" 


The  Awakening  Volcano.  65 

"That's  right!"  gasped  Scotch.  "Great  Jupiter!  can 
they  be  more  ghosts  ?" 

"Mysteries  are  crowding  each  other,"  said  Frank. 

Bushnell  was  silent,  but  he  was  watching  and  listening. 

Like  a  band  of  black  phantoms,  the  silent  horsemen 
rode  along  the  ravine  and  disappeared.  Frank  could  hear 
the  professor's  teeth  chattering  as  if  the  man  had  a  chill. 

"This  bub-bub-beats  my  tut-tut-tut-time !"  confessed 
Scotch.  "I  rather  think  we'd  better  turn  back  and  let  the 
Silver  Palace  alone." 

"Rot!"  growled  Bushnell.  "Them  varmints  wuz 
Pacheco's  gang,  an'  they  hed  the  feet  of  their  critters 
muffled,  thet's  all.  Don't  git  leery  fer  thet.  All  ther  same, 
ef  Jack  Burk  or  his  spook  hedn't  warned  us,  them  onety 
skunks  w'u'd  hed  us  in  a  consarned  bad  trap." 

This  was  the  truth,  as  they  all  knew,  and  they  were  de 
cidedly  thankful  to  the  mysterious  individual  who  had 
warned  them. 

Bushnell  now  resorted  to  the  trick  of  "covering  the 
trail,"  in  order  to  do  which  it  was  necessary  to  muffle  the 
feet  of  their  horses  and  lead  them  over  the  rocky  ground, 
where  their  bandaged  hoofs  could  make  no  mark.  At 
length  he  came  to  a  stream,  and  he  led  the  way  into  the 
water,  following  the  course  of  the  stream,  and  having  the 
others  trail  along  in  single  file  directly  behind  him. 

When  they  halted  again  Bushnell  assured  them  that 
there  was  little  danger  that  the  bandits  would  be  able  to 
follow  them  closely,  and  they  rested  without  molestation 
till  morning. 

At  .daybreak  the  Westerner  was  astir,  being  alive  with 
eagerness  and  impatience,  as  he  repeatedly  declared  they 
would  behold  the  wonderful  Silver  Palace  before  another 
sunset. 

Eating  a  hasty  breakfast,  they  pushed  forward,  with  the 
Westerner  in  the  lead. 

Once  more  the  tower  of  smoke,  which  they  had  noted 
the  day  before,  was  before  them,  but  now  it  seemed 
blacker  and  more  ominous  than  on  the  previous  day. 

It  was  not  far  from  midday  when,  away  to  the  west 
ward,  they  heard  rumbling  sounds,  like  distant  thunder. 

"Vot  id  vas,  ain'd  id  ?"  asked  Hans,  in  alarm.  "I  don'd 
seen  no  dunder  shower  coming  up  somevere,  do  I  ?" 


66  The  Awakening  Volcano. 

"It  did  not  seem  like  thunder,"  said  Frank,  soberly.  "It 
was  more  like  a  rumbling  beneath  the  ground,  and  I  fan 
cied  the  earth  quivered  a  bit." 

"Perhaps  it  is  an  earthquake,"  put  in  the  professor,  ap 
prehensively.  "I  believe  they  have  such  convulsions  of 
nature  in  this  part  of  the  world." 

Bushnell  said  nothing,  but  there  was  a  troubled  look  on 
his  face,  and  he  urged  them  all  forward  at  a  still  swifter 
pace. 

The  smoke  tower  was  now  looming  near  at  hand,  and 
they  could  see  it  shift  and  sway,  grow  thin,  and  roll  up 
in  a  dense,  black  mass.  It  cast  a  gloom  over  their  spirits, 
and  made  them  all  feel  as  if  some  frightful  disaster  was 
impending. 

Again  and  again,  at  irregular  intervals,  they  heard  the 
sullen  rumbling,  and  once  all  were  positive  the  earth 
shook. 

It  was  noticed  that  directly  after  each  rumbling  the 
smoke  rolled  up  in  a  thick,  black  mass  that  shut  out  the 
light  of  the  sun  and  overcast  the  heavens. 

The  professor  was  for  turning  back,  but  Bushnell  was 
determined  to  go  forward,  and  Frank  was  equally  reso 
lute.  Hans  had  very  little  to  say,  but  his  nerves  were 
badly  shaken. 

"In  less  than  an  hour  we  shall  be  able  to  see  the  Silver 
Palace,"  assured  Bushnell.  "We  would  be  fools  to  turn 
back  now." 

So  they  went  on,  and,  at  last,  they  climbed  to  the  top  of 
a  rise,  from  which  point  the  Westerner  assured  them  that 
the  palace  could  be  seen. 

An  awe-inspiring  spectacle  met  their  gaze.  They 
looked  across  a  great  gulf,  from  which  the  smoke  was 
rolling  upward  in  clouds,  and  out  of  which  came  the  sul 
len  mutterings  they  had  heard. 

"Merciful  goodness!"  cried  Professor  Scotch.  "It 
must  be  the  crater  of  a  volcano !" 

"Yah !"  gasped  Hans ;  "und  der  volcano  vos  doin'  pusi- 
ness  at  der  oldt  standt  alretty  yet." 

"The  volcano  may  have  been  dormant  for  centuries," 
said  the  professor,  "but  it  is  coming  to  life  now !" 

"Where  is  the  Silver  Palace?"  demanded  Frank. 

Bushnell  clutched  the  boy's  arm  with  a  grip  of  iron, 


The  Awakening  Volcano.  67 

pointing  straight  through  the  smoke  clouds  that  rose  be 
fore  them. 

"Look!"  he  shouted,  hoarsely;  "it  is  thar!  See — the 
smoke  grows  thinner,  an'  thar  she  am !  See  her  glitter ! 
In  thet  thar  palace  is  stored  enough  treasure  ter  make  us 
richer  then  ther  richest  men  in  ther  world,  an'  ten  thou 
sand  volcanoes  ain't  goin'  ter  keep  me  from  it,  you  bet 
yer  boots !" 

True  enough,  through  the  parted  smoke  clouds  gleamed 
the  towers  and  turrets^  of  the  wonderful  palace  that  had 
remained  hidden  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains  hundreds 
of  years,  jealously  guarded  by  the  fierce  natives,  who 
believed  it  sacred,  and  who  had  kept  the  secret  well  from 
the  outside  world. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DOOM  OF  THE  SILVER  PALACE. 

Bushnell  leaped  from  his  horse  and  began  tearing  the 
packs  from  the  backs  of  the  led  animals.  He  worked 
with  mad  haste,  and  there  was  an  awesome,  insane  glare 
in  his  eyes. 

"The  man  is  crazy!"  roared  Professor  Scotch.  "The 
volcano  is  certain  to  break  forth  before  long — it  must  be 
on  the  verge  of  breaking  forth  now.  If  we  remain  here 
we  are  doomed!" 

"Oxcuse  me!"  fluttered  Hans.  "I  vos  retty  to  gone 
righd  avay  queek." 

The  professor  turned  to  Frank  with  his  appeal : 

"Come,  boy,  let's  get  away  before  destruction  comes 
upon  us.  We  must  not  remain  here." 

Frank  sprang  down  from  his  snorting  horse,  flung  the 
rein  to  Hans,  and  leaped  to  Bushnell's  side. 

"You  are  mad  to  think  of  remaining  here!"  he  said, 
swiftly.  "Come  away,  and  we  will  return  when  the  vol 
cano  is  at  peace." 

"No!"  thundered  the  treasure-seeker,  "I  will  not  go! 
The  Silver  Palace  is  there,  and  I  mean  to  have  my  share 
of  the  treasure.  Go  if  you  are  afraid,  but  here  I  stay  till 
the  balloon  is  inflated,  and  I  can  cross  the  chasm.  The 
wind  is  right  for  it,  and  nothing  shall  stop  me !" 

He  picketed  the  horses,  and  began  ripping  open  the 
packs. 

Frank  turned  to  Professor  Scotch,  saying,  quietly: 

"Bushnell  will  not  go,  and  I  shall  stay  with  him.  At 
the  same  time,  I  advise  you  to  go.  Take  Hans  with  you, 
and  get  away  from  here.  Leave  a  plain  trail,  and  Bushnell 
will  be  able  to  follow  it,  if  we  succeed  in  reaching  the 
palace  and  returning  alive." 

The  professor  entreated  Frank  to  change  his  mind,  but 
the  lad  was  determined,  and  nothing  could  alter  that  de 
termination. 

At  last  Scotch  gave  up  in  despair,  groaning : 


Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace.  69 

"If  you  stay,  I  stay.  I  am  your  guardian,  but  you 
seem  to  have  things  all  your  own  way.  If  this  volcano 
cooks  us  all,  you  will  be  to  blame  for  it." 

Frank  said  no  word,  but  went  about  the  task  of  assist 
ing  Bushnell  in  the  work  of  inflating  the  balloon. 

The  Westerner  had  a  "gas  generator,"  which  he  was 
getting  in  order.  As  soon  as  this  was  ready,  the  balloon 
was  unrolled,  spread  out,  drawn  up  by  means  of  poles 
and  lines,  and  then  secured  to  the  ground  by  one  stout 
rope,  which  was  hitched  about  the  base  of  a  great  bowlder. 

Then  Bushnell  built  a  fire  and  set  the  "gas  generator" 
at  work. 

In  the  meantime  the  volcano  had  continued  to  mutter. 
At  intervals  the  clouds  of  smoke  parted,  and  they  saw  the 
wonderful  Silver  Palace  standing  on  a  plateau  beyond 
the  chasm. 

The  palace  seemed  to  cast  a  spell  over  them  all,  and 
they  felt  the  fever  of  the  gold-hunter  beginning  to  burn  in 
their  throbbing  veins. 

It  was  more  than  an  hour  after  their  arrival  that  the 
balloon  began  to  fill  with  gas  and  Frank  uttered  a  cheer 
as  he  saw  the  silk  bulging  like  a  bladder  that  is  inflated 
with  wind. 

"Ha,  ha !"  laughed  Bushnell,  wildly.  "In  a  few  minutes 
we'll  go  sailin'  over  ther  gulf,  right  through  ther  smoke, 
ter  ther  Silver  Palace.  Ha,  ha,  ha !" 

The  man's  face  was  flushed  till  it  was  nearly  purple, 
and  his  eyes  were  bloodshot.  The  fever  had  fastened  it 
self  firmly  upon  him. 

More  and  more  did  the  balloon  expand.  Bushnell  had 
brought  out  a  folding  car,  which  he  securely  attached. 

"In  ten  minutes  more  we'll  be  ready  for  the  trip!"  he 
shouted. 

At  that  instant  a  series  of  wild  cries  reached  their  ears, 
and,  turning  swiftly,  they  saw  a  band  of  dark-faced  men 
pouring  through  a  fissure  in  the  rocks  to  the  north  of 
them. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  cried  Hans  Dunnerwust,  in  ter 
ror.  "Dot  seddles  us !" 

"Who  is  it  ?    Who  are  they  ?"  fluttered  the  professor. 

"They  look  like  bandits,"  acknowledged  Frank. 

"It  is  Pacheco's  band !"  cried  Bushnell,  hastily  securing 


7O  Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace. 

his  rifle.  "Ther  pizen  varmints  hev  come  ten  minutes  too 
soon !  Ther  balloon  would  take  us  all  over  in  another  ten 
minutes,  but  now  it  won't  carry  mere  than  two.  We  must 
hold  ther  skunks  off  till  she  fills." 

"Right !"  shouted  Frank  Merriwell.  "And  we  must  be 
ready  to  go  the  instant  she  does  fill.  We  can't  hold  'em 
back  long,  for  we  have  no  shelter  here.  Professor,  Hans, 
into  that  car !  Get  in,  I  say,  and  be  ready !  We'll  try  to 
stand  the  whelps  off  till  the  balloon  is  inflated,  but  we 
must  be  ready  to  start  at  any  instant." 

Professor  Scotch  and  Hans  were  hastily  bundled  into 
the  car. 

The  bandits  hesitated  long  enough  to  gather  and  pre 
pare  for  the  charge,  with  their  chief  in  the  lead.  It  was 
plain  they  saw  the  treasure-seekers  had  no  shelter,  and 
they  meant  to  close  in  without  delay. 

"Reddy  for  'em,  Frank !"  called  Bushnell,  dropping  on 
one  knee,  his  Winchester  in  his  hands.  "They're  comin' 
right  soon!" 

This  was  true.  With  mad  cries  and  a  fusillade  of  shots, 
the  bandits  charged. 

Bushnell  opened  fire,  and  Frank  followed  his  example. 
Several  of  the  bandits  were  seen  to  fall,  but  still  the  others 
came  on. 

"Lead  won't  stop  'em !"  snarled  the  Westerner.  "It'll 
be  hand  ter  hand  in  a  jiffy." 

"And  that  means " 

"We'll  get  wiped  out." 

"The  balloon " 

"Won't  carry  more'n  two — possibly  three.  In  with  ye, 
boy !  You  may  escape !  It  don't  make  any  diffrunce  'bout 
an  old  coon  like  me." 

"Not  much  will  I  get  in  and  leave  you !"  cried  Frank. 
"We  are  partners  in  this  expedition,  and  partners  we'll 
stay  to  the  end!" 

"But  ther  others — ther  professor  an'  ther  Dutch  boy! 
They  might  escape  if " 

"They  shall  escape!" 

Out  flashed  a  knife  in  Frank  Merriwell's  hand,  and, 
with  one  sweeping  slash,  he  severed  the  strong  rope  that 
held  the  tugging,  tossing  balloon  to  the  earth.  Away  shot 


Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace.  71 

the  balloon,  a  cry  of  amazement  and  horror  breaking  from 
the  lips  of  the  professor  and  Hans. 

"Mein  gootness!"  gasped  the  Dutch  boy.  "Vot  vos 
happened  ?" 

"I'll  tell  you,"  groaned  the  professor.  "The  balloon 
could  not  carry  all  four  of  us,  and  Frank  Merriwell,  like 
the  noble,  generous,  hot-headed,  foolish  boy  he  is,  refused 
to  leave  Bushnell.  At  the  same  time  he  would  not  doom 
us,  and  he  cut  the  rope,  setting  the  balloon  free.  He  has 
remained  behind  to  die  at  Bushnell's  side." 

"Led  me  git  oudt !"  sobbed  Hans.  "I  vant  to  go  pack; 
und  die  mit  him  !" 

"It  was  too  late  now.  Look — see  there!  We  are  di 
rectly  over  the  Silver  Palace !  What  a  beautiful " 

The  professor's  words  were  interrupted  by  a  frightful 
rumbling  roar  that  came  up  from  the  gulf  surrounding 
the  plateau  on  which  the  palace  stood.  All  the  way  around 
that  gulf  a  sheet  of  flame  seemed  to  leap  upward  through 
smoke,  and  then,  paralyzed,  helpless,  hypnotized  by  the 
spectacle,  they  saw  the  plateau  and  the  palace  sink  and 
disappear  into  the  blackness  of  a  great  void.  Then,  like 
a  black  funeral  pall,  the  smoke  rolled  up  about  them  and 
shut  off  their  view. 

But  they  knew  that  never  again  would  the  eyes  of  any 
human  being  behold  the  marvelous  Silver  Palace  of  the 
Sierra  Madre  Mountains. 

When  the  balloon  had  ascended  higher  another  current 
of  air  was  encountered,  and  the  course  changed.  Away 
they  floated  over  the  mountain  peaks  and  out  beyond  the 
great  range. 

At  last  they  came  down,  made  a  safe  landing,  and,  to 
their  satisfaction,  found  themselves  within  a  mile  of 
Huejugilla  el  Alto. 

They  had  escaped  the  most  frightful  perils,  but  Profes 
sor  Scotch's  heart  lay  like  lead  in  his  bosom,  and  Hans 
Dunnerwust  was  not  to  be  comforted,  for  they  had  left 
Frank  Merriwell  to  his  doom. 

In  Huejugilla  el  Alto  they  remained  four  days,  neither 
of  them  seeming  to  have  energy  enough  to  do  anything. 

And,  on  the  fourth  day,  Frank,  Al  Bushnell,  and  two 
Others  rode  into  town  and  stopped  at  the  hotel. 

Picture  the  meeting  between  Frank  and  his  friends! 


72  Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace. 

Hans  shed  nearly  a  bucketful  of  joyful  tears,  and  Profes 
sor  Scotch  actually  swooned  from  sheer  amazement  and 
delight.  When  the  professor  recovered,  he  clung  to 
Frank's  hands,  saying: 

"This  is  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life — if  I  am  not 
dreaming !  Frank,  my  dear  boy,  I  never  expected  to  see 
you  again.  How  did  you  escape?" 

"The  eruption  of  the  volcano  broke  the  bandits  up,"  ex 
plained  Frank ;  "and,  by  the  time  they  had  recovered  and 
were  ready  to  come  at  us  again,  a  band  of  natives,  headed 
by  Rodeo,  Pacheco's  brother,  came  down  on  them.  A  ter 
rible  battle  ensued.  The  bandits  were  defeated,  many  of 
them  slain,  among  the  latter  being  the  false  Pacheco. 
And  whom  do  you  fancy  the  impostor  proved  to  me,  pro 
fessor?" 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea." 

"He  was  my  villainous  cousin,  Carlos  Merriwell." 

"And  he  is  dead?" 

"Yes." 

"That  is  a  good  thing.  He  will  not  trouble  you  any 
more." 

"No,  I  shall  never  be  troubled  by  him  again.  With 
Rodeo  and  the  natives  was  Jack  Burk " 

"Jack  Burk !    The  man  is  dead !" 

"Not  quite,  professor,"  declared  a  familiar  voice,  and 
Burk  himself  stepped  forward.  "I  am  still  quite  lively  for 
a  dead  man." 

"But — I  saw  you  dead!"  declared  the  astounded  pro 
fessor. 

"You  saw  me  nearly  dead,  but  not  quite.  You  remem 
ber  I  told  you  of  a  native  who  had  found  me  in  the  hut, 
and  how  he  had  said  it  was  not  a  fever  that  ailed  me,  but 
was  a  trouble  brought  on  by  drinking  the  water  of  the 
spring  near  the  hut?" 

"Yes,  I  remember." 

"And  I  told  you  the  native  hastily  left  me — left  me  to 
die  alone,  as  I  supposed." 

"I  remember  that." 

"He  did  not  leave  me  to  die,  but  went  for  an  antidote. 
While  you  were  away  he  returned  and  administered  some 
of  the  antidote  for  the  poison,  bringing  me  around,  al 
though  but  a  feeble  spark  of  life  fluttered  in  my  bosom. 


Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace.  73 

Then  he  took  me  on  his  shoulders,  and  carried  me  from 
the  hut  to  another  place  of  shelter,  where  he  brought  me 
back  to  my  full  strength  in  a  remarkably  brief  space  of 
time." 

"I  understand  why  we  did  not  find  you,"  said  the  pro 
fessor. 

"We  followed  the  bandits,"  Jack  Burk  continued.  "This 
native  was  Rodero,  the  brother  of  the  true  Pacheco,  and 
he  is  here." 

Rodeo  stepped  forward,  bowing  with  the  politeness  of 
a  Spanish  don. 

"Rodeo  made  me  swear  to  aid  him  in  hunting  down  the 
murderer  of  his  brother.  That  was  the  pay  he  asked  for 
saving  my  life.  I  gave  the  oath,  and  it  was  his  whim 
that  I  should  not  reveal  myself  to  you  till  the  right  time 
came.  But  when  I  saw  the  spy  tracking  you,  saw  him  lo 
cate  you,  and  saw  him  hasten  to  tell  the  bandits,  I  was 
forced  to  appear  and  give  a  warning." 

"We  took  you  for  a  ghost." 

"I  thought  it  possible  you  might,  and  I  fancied  that 
might  cause  you  to  give  all  the  more  heed  to  the  warn- 
ing." 

"Well,  of  all  remarkable  things  that  ever  happened  in 
my  life,  these  events  of  the  past  few  days  take  the  lead," 
declared  Scotch.  "However,  I  have  come  through  all 
dangers  in  safety,  and  I  am  happy,  for  Frank  is  alive  and 
well." 

"But  the  Silver  Palace  is  gone,  with  all  its  marvelous 
treasure,"  said  Frank. 

"Thet's  right,  boy,"  nodded  Bushnell,  gloomily.  "Ther 
palace  has  sunk  inter  ther  earth,  an'  nary  galoot  ever  gits 
ther  benefit  of  all  ther  treasure  it  contained." 

"Don't  take  it  so  hard,  partner,"  said  Jack  Burk. 
"Mexico  is  the  land  of  treasures,  and  we  may  strike  some 
thing  else  before  we  cross  the  Death  Divide." 

"Veil,"  sighed  Hans  Dunnerwust,  "you  beoples  can 
hunt  for  dreasure  all  you  don'd  vant  to ;  but  I  haf  enough 
uf  dis  pusiness  alretty  soon.  I  nefer  vos  puilt  for  so  much 
oxcitemend,  und  I  vos  goin'  to  took  der  next  drain  for 
home  as  soon  as  I  can  ged  to  him.  Uf  I  don'd  done  dot 
I  vos  afrait  mein  mutter  vill  nefer  seen  her  leedle  Hansie 
some  more." 


74  Doom  of  the  Silver  Palace. 

"I  fancy  I  have  had  quite  enough  of  Mexico  for  the 
present,"  smiled  Frank.  "The  United  States  will  do  me 
a  while  longer,  and  so,  if  you  are  going  home,  Hans,  Pro 
fessor  Scotch  and  myself  will  accompany  you  till  we  strike 
Uncle  Sam's  domain,  at  least." 

A  few  days  later,  bidding  their  friends  adieu,  they  left 
Mexico,  taking  their  way  northward  to  New  Orleans, 
where  new  adventures  awaited  them,  as  the  chapters  to 
follow  will  prove. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  STAMPEDE  IN  A   CITY. 

It  was  the  day  before  Mardi  Gras  in  New  Orleans,  and 
the  "Queen  City  of  the  South"  was  in  her  gayest  attire, 
being  thronged  with  visitors  from  the  North  and  from 
almost  every  part  of  the  world. 

It  was  Monday,  when  Rex,  king  of  the  carnival,  comes 
to  town  and  takes  possession  of  the  city. 

Early  in  the  forenoon  the  river  front  in  the  vicinity  of 
Canal  Street  was  thronged  with  people  seeking  advan 
tageous  positions  from  which  to  witness  the  king's  land 
ing. 

It  was  a  jovial,  good-natured  gathering,  such  as  is  never 
seen  in  any  other  city.  Every  one  seemed  to  have  im 
bibed  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  and  there  was  no  friction 
or  unpleasantness.  Every  one  was  exceedingly  polite  and 
courteous,  and  all  seemed  to  feel  it  a  duty  to  make  the 
occasion  as  pleasant  for  other  folks  as  possible. 

The  shipping  along  the  river  was  decorated,  and  flags 
flew  everywhere.  The  sun  never  shone  more  brightly  and 
New  Orleans  never  presented  more  subtle  allurements. 

Seated  in  a  private  carriage  that  had  stopped  at  a  par 
ticularly  favorable  spot  were  Professor  Scotch  and  Frank, 
who  had  arrived  a  few  days  before. 

"Professor,"  said  Frank,  who  was  almost  bursting  with 
pent-up  enthusiasm  and  youthful  energy,  "this  makes  a 
fellow  feel  that  it  is  good  to  be  living.  In  all  the  places 
we  have  visited,  I  have  seen  nothing  like  this.  I  am  sorry 
Hans  is  no  longer  with  us  to  enjoy  it." 

"And  you  will  see  nothing  like  it  anywhere  in  this 
country  but  right  here,"  declared  the  professor,  who  was 
also  enthused.  "Northern  cities  may  get  up  carnivals, 
but  they  allow  the  spirit  of  commerce  to  crowd  in  and 
push  aside  the  true  spirit  of  pleasure.  In  all  their  page 
ants  and  processions  may  be  seen  schemes  for  advertising 
this,  that  or  the  other;  but  here  you  will  see  nothing 
of  the  kind.  In  the  procession  to-day  and  the  parade  to- 


76  A  Stampede  in  a  City. 

morrow,  you  will  see  no  trade  advertisements,  no  schemes 
for  calling  attention  to  Dr.  Somebody-or-other's  cure  for 
ingrowing  corns,  nothing  but  the  beautiful  and  the  ar 
tistic." 

Frank  laughed. 

"It's  seldom  you  speak  like  this,  professor,"  he  said. 
"You  must  be  in  love  with  the  South." 

"I  am  a  Northerner,  but  I  think  the  South  very  beauti 
ful,  and  I  admire  the  people  of  the  South  more  than  I 
can  tell.  I  do  not  know  as  they  are  naturally  more  gentle 
and  kind-hearted  than  Northerners,  but  they  are  certainly 
more  courteous  and  chivalrous,  despite  their  quick  tem 
pers  and  more  passionate  dispositions.  Northerners  are 
too  brusque.  If  they  ask  pardon  for  rudeness,  they  do  it 
as  if  they  regretted  the  breath  spent  in  uttering  the  words. 
It  is  quite  the  opposite  with  Southerners,  for  they 
seem " 

"Hold  on,  professor,"  interrupted  Frank.  "You  may 
tell  me  all  about  that  some  other  time.  Hark!  hear  the 
whistles  on  the  river?  The  king  must  be  coming!" 

"Yes,  he  is  coming." 

There  was  a  stir  among  the  people,  a  murmur  ran  over 
the  great  throng.  Then  the  royal  yacht,  accompanied  by 
more  than  a  dozen  other  steamers,  all  gayly  decorated,  was 
seen  approaching. 

The  great  crowd  began  to  cheer,  hundreds  of  whistles 
shrieked  and  roared  at  the  same  instant,  bands  of  music 
were  playing,  and,  as  the  royal  yacht  drew  near  the  levee 
at  the  foot  of  Canal  Street,  the  booming  of  cannons  added 
to  the  mad  uproar  of  joy. 

All  over  the  great  gathering  of  gayly  dressed  people 
handkerchiefs  fluttered  and  hats  were  waved  in  the  air, 
while  laughing,  excited  faces  were  seen  everywhere. 

The  mad  excitement  filled  Frank  Merriwell's  veins, 
and  he  stood  erect  in  the  carriage,  waving  his  hat  and 
cheering  with  the  cheering  thousands,  although  there  was 
such  an  uproar  at  that  moment  that  he  could  scarcely  hear 
his  own  voice. 

The  king,  attired  in  purple  and  gold,  was  seen  near  the 
bow  of  the  royal  yacht,  surrounded  by  courtiers  and  ad 
mirers. 

To  Frank's  wonder,  a  dozen  policemen  had  been  able 


A  Stampede  in  a  City.  77 

to  keep  Canal  Street  open  for  the  procession  from  the 
levee  as  far  as  could  be  seen.  Elsewhere,  and  on  each  side 
of  the  street,  the  throng  packed  thickly,  but  they  seemed 
to  aid  the  police  in  the  work  of  holding  the  street  clear,  so 
there  was  no  trouble  at  all.  Not  once  had  Frank  seen 
the  pushing  and  swaying  so  often  seen  when  great  crowds 
assemble  in  Northern  cities,  and  not  once  had  the  police 
men  been  compelled  to  draw  a  club  to  enforce  orders. 

As  the  royal  yacht  drew  into  the  jetty  a  gathering  of 
city  officers  and  leading  citizens  formed  to  greet  and  wel 
come  him.  These  gentlemen  were  known  as  "dukes  of  the 
realm,"  and  constituted  the  royal  court.  They  were  deco 
rated  with  badges  of  gold  and  bogus  jewels. 

The  yacht  drew  up  at  the  levee,  and  King  Rex,  accom 
panied  by  his  escort,  landed,  where  he  was  greeted  with 
proper  ceremony  by  the  dukes  of  the  realm. 

Then  the  king  was  provided  with  a  handsomely  deco 
rated  carriage,  which  he  entered,  and  a  procession  was 
formed.  The  king's  carriage  somewhat  resembled  a 
chariot,  being  drawn  by  four  mettlesome  coal-black  horses, 
all  gayly  caparisoned  with  gold  and  silver  trimmings  and 
nodding  plumes. 

A  magnificent  band  of  music  headed  the  procession, 
and  then  came  a  barge  that  was  piled  high  with  beautiful 
and  fragrant  flowers.  In  this  barge  was  a  girl  who 
seemed  to  be  dressed  entirely  in  flowers,  and  there  was  a 
crown  of  flowers  on  her  head.  She  was  masked,  but  did 
not  seem  to  be  more  than  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  of 
age. 

She  was  known  as  "the  Queen  of  Flowers,"  and  other 
girls,  ladies  of  the  court,  dressed  entirely  in  white,  accom 
panied  her. 

The  king's  carriage  followed  the  flower  barge,  and, 
directed  by  the  queen,  who  was  seated  on  a  throne  of 
flowers,  the  girls  scattered  flowers  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
horses,  now  and  then  laughingly  pelting  some  one  in  the 
throng  with  them. 

As  the  procession  started,  the  cannons  boomed  once 
more,  and  the  steam  whistles  shrieked. 

And  then,  in  less  than  a  minute,  there  came  a  startling 
interruption.  The  cheering  of  the  people  on  one  of  the 
side  streets  turned  to  shrieks  of  terror  and  warning,  and 


78  A  Stampede  in  a  City. 

the  crowd  was  seen  to  make  a  mad  rush  for  almost  any 
place  of  shelter. 

"What's  the  matter,  Frank?"  asked  Professor  Scotch, 
in  alarm. 

"Don't  know,"  was  the  reply,  as  Frank  mounted  to  the 
carriage  seat,  on  which  he  stood  to  obtain  a  view.  "Why, 
it  seems  that  there  are  wild  cattle  in  the  street,  and  they're 
coming  this  way." 

"Good  gracious!"  gasped  the  professor.  "Drive  on, 
driver — get  out  of  the  way  quickly !" 

"That's  impossible,  sir,"  replied  the  driver,  immediately. 
"If  I  drive  on,  we  are  liable  to  be  overturned  by  the  rush 
ing  crowd.  It  is  safer  to  keep  still  and  remain  here." 

"Those  cattle  look  like  Texas  long-horns !"  cried  Frank. 

"So  they  are,  sir,"  assured  the  driver.  "They  have 
broken  out  of  the  yard  in  which  they  were  placed  this 
morning.  They  were  brought  here  on  a  steamer." 

"Texas  long-horns  on  a  stampede  in  a  crowded  city!" 
fluttered  Frank.  "That  means  damage — no  end  of  it." 

In  truth,  nearly  half  a  hundred  wild  Texan  steers, 
driven  to  madness  by  the  shrieking  whistles  and  thunder 
ing  cannons,  had  broken  out  of  the  fraily  constructed  yard, 
and  at  least  a  dozen  of  them  had  stampeded  straight 
toward  Canal  Street. 

Persons  crushed  against  each  other  and  fell  over  each 
other  in  frantic  haste  to  get  out  of  the  way  for  the  cattle 
to  pass.  Some  were  thrown  down  and  trampled  on  by  the 
fear-stricken  throng.  Men  shouted  hoarsely,  and  women 
shrieked. 

Mad  with  terror,  blinded  by  dust,  furious  with  the  joy 
of  sudden  freedom,  the  Texan  steers,  heads  lowered, 
horns  glistening,  eyes  glowing  redly  and  nostrils  steam 
ing,  charged  straight  into  the  crowd. 

It  was  a  terrible  spectacle. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  is  there  no  way  of  stopping  those 
creatures?"  cried  Frank. 

"We'll  all  be  killed !"  quavered  Professor  Scotch. 

Into  Canal  Street  rushed  the  crowd,  and  the  precession 
was  broken  up  in  a  moment.  The  one  thought  of  every 
body  seemed  to  be  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  steers. 

The  horses  on  the  flower  barge  became  unmanageable, 
turned  short,  snorting  with  terror,  and  upset  the  barge, 


A  Stampede  in  a  City.  79 

spilling  flowers,  girls,  and  all  into  the  street.  Then,  in 
some  way,  the  animals  broke  away,  leaving  the  wrecked 
barge  where  it  had  toppled. 

The  girls,  with  one  exception,  sprang  up  and  fled  in 
every  direction. 

The  one  exception  was  the  Queen  of  Flowers,  who  lay 
motionless  and  apparently  unconscious  in  the  street,  with 
the  beautiful  flowers  piled  on  every  side  of  her. 

"She  is  hurt !"  cried  Frank,  who  was  watching  her. 
"Why  doesn't  some  one  pick  her  up?" 

"They  do  not  see  her  there  amid  the  flowers,"  palpitated 
the  professor.  "They  do  not  know  she  has  not  fled  with 
the  other  girls!" 

"The  cattle — the  steers  will  crush  her!"  shouted  the 
driver. 

"Not  if  I  can  save  her !"  rang  out  the  clear  voice  of  our 
hero. 

Professor  Scotch  made  a  clutch  at  the  lad,  but  too  late 
to  catch  and  hold  him. 

Frank  leaped  from  the  carriage,  clearing  the  heads  of  a 
dozen  persons,  struck  on  his  feet  in  the  street,  tore  his 
way  through  the  rushing,  excited  mob,  and  reached  the 
side  of  the  unconscious  Flower  Queen.  He  lifted  her 
from  the  ground,  and,  at  that  very  instant,  a  mad  steer, 
with  lowered  head  and  bristling  horns,  charged  blindly 
at  them ! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  HOT  BLOOD  OF  YOUTH. 

A  cry  of  horror  went  up  from  those  who  beheld  the 
peril  of  the  brave  boy  and  the  Queen  of  Flowers,  for  it 
looked  as  if  both  must  be  impaled  by  the  wicked  horns  of 
the  mad  steer. 

Well  it  was  that  Frank  was  a  lad  of  nerve,  with  whom 
at  such  a  moment  to  think  was  to  act.  Well  it  was  that 
he  had  the  muscles  and  strength  of  a  trained  athlete. 

Frank  did  not  drop  the  girl  to  save  himself,  as  most 
lads  would  have  done.  She  felt  no  heavier  than  a  feather 
in  his  arms,  but  it  seemed  that  he  would  be  unable  to  save 
himself,  if  he  were  unincumbered. 

Had  he  leaped  ahead  he  could  not  have  escaped.  With 
all  the  energy  he  possessed,  he  sprang  backward,  at  the 
same  time  swinging  the  girl  away  from  the  threatening 
horns,  so  that  his  own  body  protected  her  in  case  he  was 
not  beyond  reach  of  the  steer. 

In  such  a  case  and  in  such  a  situation  inches  count,  and 
it  proved  thus  in  this  instance. 

One  of  the  steer's  horns  caught  Frank's  coat  sleeve  at 
the  shoulder,  and  ripped  it  open  to  the  flesh  as  far  as  his 
elbow,  the  sharp  point  seeming  to  slit  the  cloth  like  a  keen 
knife. 

But  Frank  was  unharmed,  and  the  unconscious  girl  was 
not  touched. 

Then  the  steer  crashed  into  the  flower  barge. 

Frank  was  not  dazed  by  his  remarkable  escape,  and  he 
well  knew  the  peril  might  not  be  over. 

Like  a  leaping  panther,  the  boy  sprang  from  the  spot, 
avoiding  other  mad  steers  and  frantic  men  and  women, 
darted  here  and  there  through  the  flying  throng,  and 
reached  a  place  where  he  believed  they  would  be  safe. 

It  was  a  brave  and  nervy  act — the  act  of  a  true  hero. 

The  stampeded  steers  dashed  on,  and  the  danger  at  that 
point  was  past.  Men  and  women  had  been  trampled  and 
bruised,  but,  remarkable  though  it  seemed,  when  the  steers 


The  Hot  Blood  of  Youth.  81 

were  finally  captured  or  dispatched,  it  was  found  that  no 
person  had  been  killed  outright. 

Men  crowded  about  Frank  and  the  Flower  Girl.  The 
lad  had  placed  the  girl  upon  some  steps,  and  he  called  for 
water. 

"Remove  her  mask,"  directed  some  one.  "Give  her 
air." 

"Yes,  remove  her  mask !"  cried  scores  of  voices. 

They  were  eager  to  see  her  face,  that  they  might  again 
recognize  the  girl  who  had  passed  through  such  peril. 

Frank  hesitated,  although  he  also  longed  to  look  on 
the  face  of  the  girl  he  had  saved.  She  was  most  beauti 
fully  formed  for  a  girl  of  her  age,  and  that  her  face  was 
pretty  he  had  not  a  doubt. 

He  reached  out  his  hand  to  unfasten  the  mask.  As 
he  did  so  his  wrist  was  clutched  by  strong  fingers,  and  a 
panting  voice  hissed  in  his  ear : 

"Would  you  do  it?  Well,  you  shall  not!  I  will  take 
charge  of  that  young  lady,  if  you  please !" 

Looking  over  his  shoulder,  Frank  saw  the  dark,  excited 
face  of  a  youth  of  twenty  or  twenty-one.  That  face  was 
almost  wickedly  handsome,  although  there  was  something 
decidedly  repellent  about  it.  The  eyes  were  black  as 
midnight,  while  the  lips  were  full  and  red. 

With  a  twisting  snap  Frank  freed  his  wrist. 

"You?"  he  said,  calmly — "who  are  you?" 

"One  who  knows  this  unfortunate  young  lady,  and  has 
a  right  to  protect  her." 

"Which  is  ver'  true,  sah,"  declared  a  man  with  a  bris 
tling  white  mustache  and  imperial,  who  stood  just  behind 
the  youth  with  the  dark  face.  "I  give  you  my  word  of 
honah,  sah,  that  it  is  true." 

The  words  were  spoken  with  great  suavity  and  polite 
ness,  and  Frank  noted  that  the  speaker  seemed  to  have  a 
military  air. 

Frank  hesitated,  and  then  straightened  up,  stepping 
back  and  bowing,  as  he  said : 

"That  settles  it,  gentlemen.  If  you  know  the  young 
lady,  I  have  nothing  more  to  say." 

The  young  man  instantly  lifted  the  Flower  Queen  in  his 
arms.  As  he  did  so  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  Frank  saw 
she  was  looking  straight  at  his  face. 


82  The  Hot  Blood  of  Youth. 

Then  came  a  staggering  surprise  for  the  boy  from  the 
North.  He  saw  the  girl's  lips  part,  and  he  distinctly 
heard  her  faintly  exclaim : 

"Frank  Merriwell!" 

Frank  fell  back  a  step,  then  started  forward. 

"You — you  know  me  ?"  he  cried. 

Quick  as  a  flash,  the  youth  with  the  dark  face  passed 
the  girl  to  the  man  with  the  white  mustache  and  imperial, 
and  the  latter  bore  her  through  the  throng  to  a  carriage. 

Frank  would  have  followed,  but  the  dark-faced  youth 
blocked  the  way,  saying,  harshly : 

"Hold  on!  You  did  her  a  service.  How  much  do  I 
owe  you?" 

"Stand  aside!"  came  sharply  from  Frank's  lips.  "She 
knows  me — she  spoke  my  name !  I  must  find  out  who  she 
is!" 

"That  you  cannot  do." 

"Who  will  prevent  it?" 

"I  will!" 

Frank  measured  the  other  from  head  to  heels  with  his 
eyes. 

"Stand  aside!" 

"Now,  don't  go  to  putting  on  any  airs  with  me,  my 
smart  youngster.  By  sheer  luck,  you  were  able  to  save  her 
from  possible  injury.  Like  all  Northerners,  you  have 
your  price  for  every  service.  How  much  do  I  owe  you  ?" 

Frank's  face  was  hot  with  anger. 

"You  say  'like  all  Northerners,'  but  it  is  well  for  the 
South  that  you  are  not  a  representative  Southerner.  You 
are  an  insolent  cad  and  a  puppy!" 

"You  have  insulted  me !" 

"I  simply  returned  what  you  gave." 

"And  it  shall  cost  you  dear !"  hissed  the  youth  with  the 
dark  face. 

Quickly  he  leaned  forward  and  struck  Frank's  cheek 
with  his  open  hand. 

Then  something  else  happened. 

Like  a  bolt,  Frank's  fist  shot  out  and  caught  the  other 
under  the  chin,  hurling  him  backward  into  the  arms  of  a 
man  behind  him,  where  he  lay  gasping  and  dazed. 

Frank  would  have  rushed  toward  the  carriage,  but  he 
saw  it  move  swiftly  away,  carrying  the  mysterious  Queen 


The  Hot  Blood  of  Youth.  83 

of  Flowers,  and,  with  deep  regret,  he  realized  he  was  too 
late. 

The  man  with  the  bristling  white  mustache  and  im 
perial  did  not  depart  in  the  carriage,  but  he  again  forced 
his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  found  his  companion 
slowly  recovering  from  the  stunning  blow  he  had  received. 

"Mistah  Raymon',  sah,  what  does  this  mean  ?"  he  cried, 
in  amazement. 

"It  means  that  I  have  been  insulted  and  struck !"  hissed 
the  one  questioned,  quivering  with  unutterable  anger. 

"Struck,  sah !"  cried  the  man,  in  unbounded  amazement. 
"You  were  struck !  Impossible,  sah — impossible !" 

"It  is  true!" 

"Who  struck  you,  sah  ?" 

"This  young  coxcomb  of  a  Northern  cur !" 

The  man  glared  at  Frank,  who,  with  his  hands  on  his 
hips,  was  quietly  awaiting  developments,  apparently  not 
at  all  alarmed.  He  did  not  quail  in  the  least  before  the 
fierce,  fire-eating  look  given  him  by  the  man  with  the 
bristling  mustache  and  imperial. 

"If  this — ah! — young  gentleman  struck  you,  Mistah 
Raymon',  sah,  there  can  be  but  one  termination  of  the 
affaiah.  He  will  have  to  meet  you,  sah,  on  the  field,  or 
humbly  apologize  at  once." 

"That's  right !"  blustered  the  young  man,  fiercely.  "I'll 
have  his  life,  or  an  instant  apology !" 

Frank  smiled  as  if  he  were  quite  amused. 

"As  I  happen  to  feel  that  I  am  the  one  to  whom  an 
apology  is  due,  you  will  have  to  be  satisfied  with  taking 
my  life,"  he  said. 

The  youth  with  the  dark  face  drew  out  a  handsome 
card  case,  from  which  he  extracted  an  engraved  card, 
which  he  haughtily  handed  to  Frank,  who  accepted  it,  and 
read  aloud : 

"  'Mr.  Rolf  Raymond/  A  very  pretty  name.  Allow 
me;  my  card,  Mr.  Raymond.  I  am  stopping  at  the  St. 
Charles  Hotel.  You  will  be  able  to  find  me  without  dif 
ficulty." 

"Rest  assured  that  a  friend  of  mine  will  call  on  you 
without  delay,  Mr.  Merriwell,"  stiffly  said  Raymond, 
thrusting  Frank's  card  into  his  pocket. 

Professor  Scotch  had  forced  his  way  through  the  crowd 


84  The  Hot  Blood  of  Youth. 

in  time  to  catch  the  drift  of  this,  and  the  full  significance 
of  it  dawned  upon  him,  filling  him  with  amazement  and 
horror. 

"This  will  not  do — it  will  never  do!"  he  spluttered. 
"Dueling  is  a  thing  of  the  past ;  there  is  a  law  for  it !  I 
will  not  have  it!  Frank,  you  hot-headed  young  rascal, 
what  do  you  mean  by  getting  into  such  a  scrape?" 

"Keep  cool,  professor,"  said  the  boy,  calmly.  "If  this 
young  gentleman  insists  on  forcing  me  into  a  duel,  I  can 
not  take  water — I  must  give  him  satisfaction." 

"I  tell  you  I  won't  have  it!"  roared  the  little  man,  in 
his  big,  hoarse  voice,  his  face  getting  very  red.  "I  am 
your  guardian.  You  are  a  minor,  and  I  forbid  you  to  fight 
a  duel." 

"If  Mistah  Merriwell  will  apologize,  it  is  possible  that, 
considering  his  age,  sah,  Mistah  Raymon'  will  not  press 
this  mattah,"  smoothly  said  the  man  with  the  bristling 
mustache. 

"What  has  he  to  apologize  for?"  asked  Scotch. 

"He  struck  Mistah  Raymon',  sah." 

"Did  you  do  that,  Frank?" 

"Yes ;  but  he  struck  me  first." 

"He  did,  eh?"  roared  the  professor,  getting  very  red 
in  the  face.  "Well,  I  don't  think  you'll  apologize,  Frank, 
and  you're  not  going  to  fight.  You're  a  boy ;  let  him  take 
a  man.  If  he  wants  to  fight  anybody,  I'm  just  his  hairpin, 
and  I'll  agree  to  do  him  up  with  any  kind  of  a  weapon 
from  a  broad-ax  to  a  bologna  sausage !" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MYSTERY  OF  THE  FLOWER  QUEEN. 

Frank  looked  at  Professor  Scotch  in  amazement,  for 
he  had  never  known  the  little  man  to  use  such  language 
or  show  such  spirit  in  the  face  of  actual  danger. 

"I  wonder  if  the  professor  has  been  drinking,  and,  if  so, 
where  he  got  his  drinks?"  was  the  thought  that  flashed 
through  Frank's  mind. 

"Mistah  Raymon',  sah,  has  no  quarrel  with  you,  sah," 
said  the  individual  with  the  bristling  mustache.  "If  there 
is  to  be  any  further  trouble,  sah,  I  will  attend  to  your 
case." 

"You?    Who  are  you?" 

"I,  sah,  am  Colonel  La  Salle  Vallier,  the  ver'  particular 
friend  of  Mistah  Raymon'.  If  yo'  say  so,  we  will  ex 
change  cards,  sah." 

"Then  we  will  exchange.    Here  is  mine." 

"And  here,  sah,  is  mine." 

"This,"  said  Colonel  Vallier,  "precludes  yo'  from  inter 
fering  in  this  othah  affair,  Professor  Scotch." 

"Hey?    It  does!    How's  that,  I'd  like  to  know?" 

"I  am  at  your  service,  professor,"  bowed  the  colonel. 
"You  shall  make  such  arrangements  as  yo'  choose.  Pis 
tols  or  swords  make  no  difference  to  me,  for  I  am  a  dead 
shot  and  an  expert  swordsman.  I  trust  yo'  will  excuse  us 
now,  gentlemen.  We  will  see  yo'  later.  Good-day." 

He  locked  arms  with  the  young  man,  and  they  turned 
away,  with  a  sweeping  salute.  The  throng  parted,  and 
they  passed  through. 

Professor  Scotch  stood  staring  after  them  till  Frank 
tapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  saying : 

"Come,  professor,  we  may  as  well  get  out  of  this." 

"Excuse-a  me,  sefiors/'  said  a  soft,  musical  voice,  and 
a  young  man  with  a  Spanish  face  and  pink  cheeks  was 
bowing  before  them.  "I  t'ink  you  need-a  to  be  tole  'bout 
it." 

"Told  about  what  ?"  demanded  Frank,  who  took  an  in- 


86        Mystery  of  the  Flower  Queen. 

stant  dislike  to  this  softly  smiling  fellow  with  the  woman* 
ish  voice  and  gentle  ways.  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"Excuse-a  me,"  repeated  the  stranger,  who  was  gaudily 
dressed  in  many  colors.  "Yo'  are  strangar-a-rs  from  de 
Noath,  an'  yo'  do  not  know-a  de  men  what  you  have  a 
de  troub'  wid.  Excuse-a  me;  I  am  Manuel  Mazaro,  an' 
I  know-a  dem.  De  young  man  is  son  of  de  ver'  reech 
Sefior  Roderick  Raymon',  dat  everybody  in  New  Orle'n 
know.  He  is  ver'  wile — ver'  reckless.  Ha !  He  love-a 
to  fight,  an'  he  has  been  in  two  duel,  dough  he  is  ver' 
young.  But  de  odare,  senors — de  man  wid  de  white  mus 
tache — ah !" 

Manuel  Mazaro  threw  up  his  hands  with  an  expression 
that  plainly  said  words  failed  him. 

"Well,  what  of  the  other  ?"  asked  Frank,  impatiently. 

"Senors,"  purred  Mazaro,  "he  is  de  wor-r-rst  fightar 
ever  leeve!  He  like-a  to  fight  fo'  de  sport  of  keelin'. 
Take-a  my  advice,  senors,  an'  go  'way  from  New  Orle'n'. 
Yo'  make  ver'  gre't  mistake  to  get  in  troub'  wid  dem." 

"Thank  you  for  your  kind  advice,"  said  Frank,  quietly. 
"I  presume  it  is  well  meant,  but  it  is  wasted.  This  is  a 
free  country,  and  a  dozen  fire-eaters  like  Colonel  La  Salle 
Vallier  and  Mr.  Rolf  Raymond  cannot  drive  us. out  of 
New  Orleans  till  we  are  ready  to  go.  Eh,  professor  ?" 

"Well,  I  guess  not !"  rumbled  the  little  man,  stiffening 
up  and  looking  as  fierce  as  he  could. 

"Oh,  ver'  well,  ver'  well,"  said  Mazaro,  lifting  his  eye 
brows,  the  ghost  of  a  scornful  smile  on  his  face.  "You 
know-a  your  own  biz.  Good-day,  senors." 

"Good-day,  sir." 

They  passed  through  the  crowd  and  sought  their  car 
riage,  which  was  waiting  for  them,  although  the  driver 
had  begun  to  think  they  had  deserted  him. 

The  procession,  which  had  been  broken  up  by  the 
stampeded  steers,  was  again  forming,  making  it  evident 
that  the  pleasure-loving  people  were  determined  that  the 
unfortunate  occurrence  should  not  ruin  the  day. 

The  Queen  of  Flowers  and  her  subjects  had  vanished, 
and  the  flower  barge  was  a  wreck,  so  a  part  of  the  pro 
gramme  could  not  be  carried  out. 

The  procession  formed  without  the  flower  barge,  and 


Mystery  of  the  Flower  Queen.        87 

was  soon  on  its  way  once  more,  the  band  playing  its  live 
liest  tune. 

The  way  was  lined  with  tens  of  thousands  of  spectators, 
while  flags  fluttered  from  every  building.  All  along  the 
line  the  king  was  greeted  with  cheers  and  bared  heads. 
It  was  a  most  magnificent  spectacle. 

The  carriage  bearing  Frank  and  the  professor  had 
found  a  place  in  the  procession  through  the  skill  of  the 
driver,  and  the  man  and  boy  were  able  to  witness  this 
triumphal  entrance  of  King  Rex  to  the  Crescent  City. 

At  the  City  Hall,  the  Duke  of  Crescent  City,  who  was 
the  mayor,  welcomed  Rex  with  great  pomp  and  ceremony, 
presenting  him  the  keys  and  the  freedom  of  the  city. 

Shortly  afterward,  the  king  mysteriously  disappeared, 
and  the  procession  broke  up  and  dispersed. 

Frank  and  the  professor  returned  to  the  St.  Charles 
Hotel,  both  feeling  decidedly  hungry. 

Frank  had  little  to  say  after  they  had  satisfied  their 
hunger  and  were  in  their  suite  of  rooms.  He  had  seemed 
to  be  thinking  all  the  while,  and  the  professor  again  re 
peated  a  question  that  he  had  asked  several  times : 

"What  in  the  world  makes  you  so  glum,  Frank  ?  What 
are  you  thinking  about  ?" 

"The  Queen  of  Flowers,"  was  the  reply. 

"My  boy,"  cried  the  professor,  enthusiastically,  "I  am 
proud  of  you — yes,  sir,  proud!  But,  at  one  time,  I 
thought  you  were  done  for.  That  steer  was  right  upon 
you,  and  I  could  see  no  way  for  you  to  escape  the  crea 
ture's  horns.  I  held  my  breath,  expecting  to  see  you  im 
paled.  And  then  I  saw  you  escape  with  no  further  injury 
than  the  slitting  of  your  coat  sleeve,  but  to  this  minute  I 
can't  say  how  you  did  it." 

Frank  scarcely  seemed  to  hear  the  professor's  words. 
He  sat  with  his  hand  to  his  head,  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  pat 
tern  in  the  carpet. 

"She  knew  my  name,"  he  muttered.  "She  spoke  it  dis 
tinctly.  There  can  be  no  doubt  about  that." 

Professor  Scotch  groaned  dismally. 

"There  you  go  again !"  he  exclaimed.  "Now,  what  are 
you  mumbling  about?" 

"The  Queen  of  Flowers." 

"Confound  the  Queen  of  Flowers!"  exploded  Scotch. 


88        Mystery  of  the  Flower  Queen. 

"You  saved  her  life  at  the  risk  of  your  own,  but  you  don't 
know  her  from  Adam." 

"She  knows  me." 

"How  is  that?" 

"She  spoke  my  name." 

"You  must  be  mistaken." 

"I  am  not." 

"Professor  Scotch  looked  incredulous. 

"Why,  she  was  unconscious." 

"She  was  when  I  saved  her  from  the  steer." 

"And  she  recovered  afterward?" 

"Yes;  just  as  Colonel  Vallier  was  taking  her  to  the 
carriage.' 

"And  she  spoke  your  name  then?" 

"Yes.  First  I  saw  her  open  her  eyes,  and  I  noticed  that 
she  was  looking  straight  at  me ;  then  I  heard  her  distinctly 
but  faintly  pronounce  my  name." 

The  professor  still  looked  doubtful. 

"You  were  excited,  my  boy,  and  you  imagined  it." 

"No,  professor,  it  was  no  case  of  imagination ;  I  know 
she  called  me  Frank  Merriwell,  but  what  puzzles  me  is 
the  fact  that  this  young  cad,  Raymond,  was  determined  I 
should  not  speak  with  her,  and  she  was  carried  away 
quickly.  Why  should  they  wish  to  keep  us  from  having 
a  few  words  of  conversation?" 

"That  is  a  question  I  cannot  answer,  Frank." 

"There's  a  mystery  here,  professor — a  mystery  I  mean 
to  solve.  I  am  going  to  find  out  who  the  Queen  of  Flow 
ers  really  is." 

"And  get  into  more  trouble,  you  hot-headed  young  ras 
cal.  I  should  think  you  were  in  trouble  enough  al 
ready,  with  a  possible  duel  impending." 

A  twinkle  of  mischief  showed  in  Frank's  eyes. 

"How  about  yourself,  professor?" 

"Oh,  the  young  scoundrel  won't  dare  to  meet  me,"  blus 
tered  Scotch,  throwing  out  his  chest  and  strutting  about 
the  room. 

"But  he  is  not  the  one  you  will  have  to  meet.  You  ex 
changed  cards  with  Colonel  La  Salle  Vallier." 

"As  a  mere  matter  of  courtesy." 

"That  might  go  in  the  North,  but  you  exchanged 
under  peculiar  circumstances,  and,  taking  everything 


Mystery  of  the  Flower  Queen.        89 

into  consideration,  I  have  no  doubt  but  you  will  be  waited 
on  by  a  friend  of  Colonel  Vallier.  You  will  have  to 
meet  him." 

"Hey !"  roared  the  professor,  turning  pale.  "Is  it  pos 
sible  that  such  a  result  will  come  from  a  mere  matter  of 
politeness?  Why,  I'm  no  fighter,  Frank — I'm  no  blood- 
and-thunder  ruffian !  I  did  not  mean  to  hint  that  I  wished 
to  meet  the  colonel  on  the  field  of  honor." 

"But  you  have,  and  you  can't  back  out  now.  You  heard 
what  Manuel  Mazaro  had  to  say  about  him.  He  is  a 
dead  shot  and  a  skilled  swordsman.  Oh,  professor,  my 
heart  bleeds  for  you !  But  you  shall  have  a  great  funeral, 
and  I'll  plant  tiddly-wink  posies  all  over  your  grave." 

"Caesar's  ghost!"  groaned  Scotch,  collapsing  on  a 
chair,  and  looking  very  ill  indeed.  "This  is  a  terrible 
scrape !  I  don't  feel  well.  I  fear  I  am  going  to  be  very 
ill." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PROFESSOR   SCOTCH    FEELS   ILL. 

Frank  found  it  impossible  to  restrain  his  laughter 
longer,  and  he  gave  way  to  it. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha !"  he  merrily  shouted.  "You  surely  look  ill, 
professor !  I'd  like  to  have  your  picture  now !  Ha,  ha, 
ha !  It  would  make  a  first-rate  picture  for  a  comic  paper." 

"This  is  no  laughing  matter,"  came  dolefully  from 
Scotch.  "I  don't  know  how  to  fire  a  pistol,  and  I  never 
had  a  sword  in  my  hand  in  all  my  life.  And  to  think  of 
standing  up  and  being  shot  full  of  holes  or  carved  like  a 
turkey  by  that  fire-eater  with  the  fierce  mustache!  It  is 
awful,  awful !" 

"But  you  were  eager  to  fight  the  young  fellow." 

"No,  I  was  not.  I  was  simply  putting  up  a  bluff,  as 
you  call  it.  I  was  doing  my  level  best  to  get  you  out  of 
the  scrape,  Frank.  I  didn't  think  he  would  fight  me,  and 
so  I  pretended  to  be  eager  to  meet  him.  And  now  see 
what  a  scrape  I  am  in !  Oh,  my  soul  and  body !  What 
can  I  do?" 

"Fight." 

"Never!" 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  get  out  of  it." 

"I'll  run  away." 

In  a  moment  Frank  became  very  grave. 

"That  is  impossible,  professor,"  he  said,  with  the  utmost 
apparent  sincerity.  "Think  of  the  disgrace !  It  would  be 
in  all  the  papers  that  Professor  Scotch,  a  white-livered 
Northerner,  after  insulting  Colonel  La  Salle  Vallier  and 
presenting  his  card,  had  taken  to  his  heels  in  the  most 
cowardly  fashion,  and  had  fled  from  the  city  without  giv 
ing  the  colonel  the  satisfaction  that  is  due  from  one  gentle 
man  to  another.  The  Northern  papers  would  copy,  and 
you  would  find  yourself  the  butt  of  ridicule  wherever  you 
went." 

The  professor  let  out  a  groan  that  was  more  dismal  and 


Professor  Scotch  Feels  111.  91 

'doleful  than  any  sound  that  had  previously  issued  from 
his  lips. 

"What  can  I  do?"  he  gasped. 

"There  is  one  way  to  get  out  of  the  difficulty." 

"Name  it!  name  it!"  shouted  the  wretched  man.  "I'll 
do  anything !" 

"Then  commit  suicide." 

The  professor  collapsed  again. 

"Are  you  entirely  heartless?"  he  moaned.  "Can  you 
joke  when  I  am  suffering  such  misery?" 

His  face  was  covered  with  perspiration,  and  he  was  all 
a-quiver,  so  that  Frank  was  really  touched. 

"You  can  apologize,  professor." 

"Apologize  for  what?  I  don't  know  that  I  have  done 
anything  to  apologize  for;  but  then  I'll  apologize  rather 
than  fight." 

"Well,  I  guess  you'll  be  able  to  get  out  of  it  some  way." 

But  it  was  no  easy  thing  to  reassure  the  agitated  man, 
as  Frank  soon  discovered. 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  professor,"  said  the  boy;  "you  may 
send  a  representative — a  substitute." 

"I  don't  think  it  will  be  easy  to  find  a  substitute." 

"Oh,  I'll  find  one." 

"Perhaps  Colonel  Vallier  will  not  accept  him." 

"But  you  must  be  too  ill  to  meet  the  colonel,  and  then 
he'll  have  to  accept  the  substitute  or  nothing." 

"But  who  will  act  as  substitute?  I  don't  know  any  one 
in  New  Orleans  who'll  go  and  be  shot  in  my  place." 

"Barney  Mulloy  has  agreed  to  join  us  here,  and  he  may 
arrive  on  any  train,"  went  on  Frank,  mentioning  an  old 
school  chum. 

"That  wild  Irishman !"  cried  the  professor,  hopefully. 
"Why,  he'd  fight  a  pack  of  wildcats  and  think  it  fun !" 

"Yes,  Barney  is  happiest  when  in  trouble.  According 
to  my  uncle's  will,  I  am  at  liberty  to  carry  a  companion 
besides  my  guardian  on  my  travels,  and  so,  when  Hans 
Dunnerwust  got  tired  of  traveling  and  went  home,  I  sent 
for  Barney,  knowing  he'd  be  a  first-class  fellow  to  have 
with  me.  He  finally  succeeded  in  making  arrangements 
to  join  us,  and  I  have  a  telegram  from  him,  stating  that 
he  would  start  in  time  to  reach  here  before  to-morrow. 


92  Professor  Scotch  Feels  111. 

If  you  are  forced  into  trouble,  professor,  Barney  can  serve 
as  a  substitute." 

"That  sounds  very  well,  but  Colonel  Vallier  would  not 
accept  a  boy." 

"Then  Barney  can  disguise  himself  and  pretend  to  be  a 
man." 

"I'm  afraid  it  won't  work.  Not  that  Barney  Mulloy 
will  hesitate  to  help  me  out  of  the  scrape,  for  he  was  the 
most  dare-devil  chap  in  Fardale  Academy,  next  to  your 
self,  Frank.  You  were  the  leader  in  all  kinds  of  daring 
adventures,  but  Barney  made  a  good  second.  But  he 
can't  pass  muster  as  a  man." 

"Perhaps  he  can.  But  you  have  not  yet  received  a  chal 
lenge  from  Colonel  Vallier;  so  don't  worry  about  what 
may  not  happen." 

"I  can't  help  worrying.  I  shall  not  take  any  further 
pleasure  in  life  till  we  get  out  of  this  dreadful  city." 

"Oh,  brace  up!  Come  on;  let's  go  out  and  see  the 
sights." 

"No,  Frank — no,  my  boy.  I  am  indisposed — I  am  quite 
ill.  Besides  that,  I  might  meet  Colonel  Vallier.  I  shall 
remain  in  my  room  for  the  present." 

So  Frank  was  obliged  to  go  out  alone,  and,  when  he  re 
turned  for  supper,  he  found  the  professor  in  bed,  looking 
decidedly  like  a  sick  man. 

"I  am  very  ill,  Frank — very  ill,"  Scotch  declared.  "I 
fear  I  am  in  for  a  protracted  illness." 

"Nonsense,  professor !  Why,  you'll  miss  all  the  fun  to 
morrow,  and  we're  here  to  see  the  sport." 

"Confound  the  sport !  I  wish  we  had  stayed  away  from 
this  miserable  place !" 

"Why,  you  were  very  enthusiastic  over  New  Orleans 
and  the  people  of  the  South  this  morning." 

"Hang  the  people  of  the  South — hang  them  all !  They're 
too  hot-headed — they're  altogether  too  ready  to  fight  over 
nothing.  Now,  I'm  a  peaceable  man,  and  I  can't  fight — 
I  simply  can't!" 

"Well,  well!  I  don't  fancy  you'll  have  to  fight,"  said 
Frank,  whose  conscience  was  beginning  to  smite  him. 

"Then  I'll  have  to  apologize,  and  I'll  be  jiggered  if  I 
know  what  I'm  going  to  apologize  for !" 

"What  makes  you  so  sure  you'll  have  to  apologize?" 


Professor  Scotch  Feels  111.  93 

"Look  at  this— read  it !" 

The  professor  drew  an  envelope  from  beneath  his  pil 
low  and  passed  it  to  Frank.  The  envelope  contained  a 
note,  which  the  boy  was  soon  reading.  It  was  from 
Colonel  Vallier,  and  demanded  an  apology,  giving  the  pro 
fessor  until  the  following  noon  in  which  to  make  it,  and 
hinting  that  a  meeting  of  honor  would  surely  follow  if  the 
apology  was  not  forthcoming. 

"Whew !"  whistled  Frank.  "This  does  seem  like  busi 
ness.  When  did  you  receive  this  ?" 

"Shortly  after  you  went  out." 

"I  scarcely  thought  the  colonel  would  press  the  affair." 

"There's  a  letter  for  you  on  the  table." 

"From  whom  is  it?" 

"Don't  know.  Raymond,  I  suppose.  The  same  mes 
senger  brought  them  both." 

Frank  picked  up  the  letter  and  tore  it  open.  It  proved 
to  be  from  Rolf  Raymond,  and  was  worded  much  like  the 
note  to  Professor  Scotch. 

The  warm  blood  of  anger  mounted  to  the  boy's  cheeks. 

"This  settles  it!"  he  exclaimed.  "Mr.  Rolf  Raymond 
shall  have  all  the  fight  he  wants.  I  am  a  good  pistol  shot 
and  more  than  a  fair  swordsman.  At  Fardale  I  was  the 
champion  with  the  foils.  If  he  thinks  I  am  a  coward 
and  a  greenhorn  because  I  come  from  ihe  North,  he  may 
find  he  has  made  a  serious  mistake." 

The  professor  literally  writhed  in  the  bed. 

"But  you  may  be  killed,  and  I'd  never  forgive  myself," 
he  moaned. 

"Killed  or  not,  I  can't  show  the  white  feather!"  cried 
Frank,  warmly. 

"I  do  not  believe  in  duelling." 

"Nor  do  I,  but  I  have  found  it  necessary  to  do  some 
things  I  do  not  believe  in.  I  am  not  going  to  run,  and  I 
am  not  going  to  apologize,  for  I  believe  an  apology  is 
due  me,  if  any  one.  This  being  the  case,  I'll  have  to 
fight." 

"Oh,  what  a  scrape — what  a  dreadful  scrape !"  groaned 
Scotch,  wringing  his  hands.  "Why  did  we  ever  come 
here?" 

"Oh,  do  brace  up,  professor !"  cried  Frank,  impatiently. 
"We  have  been  in  worse  scrapes  than  this,  and  you  were 


94  Professor  Scotch  Feels  111. 

not  so  badly  broken  up.  It  was  only  a  short  time  ago 
down  in  Mexico  that  Pacheo's  bandits  hemmed  us  in  on 
one  side  and  there  was  a  raging  volcano  on  the  other; 
but  still  we  live  and  have  our  health.  I'll  guarantee  we'll 
pull  through  this  scrape,  and  I'll  bet  we  come  out  with  fly 
ing  colors." 

"You  may  feel  like  meeting  Rolf  Raymond,  but  I 
simply  can't  stand  up  before  that  fire-eating  colonel." 

"There  seems  to  be  considerable  bluster  about  this  busi 
ness,  and  I'll  wager  something  you  won't  have  to  stand  up 
before  him  if  you  will  put  on  a  bold  front  and  make-be 
lieve  you  are  eager  to  meet  him." 

"Oh,  my  boy,  you  don't  know — you  can't  tell !" 

"Come,  professor,  get  out  of  bed  and  dress.  We  want 
to  see  the  parade  this  evening.  They  say  it  will  be  great." 

"Oh,  I  wish  the  parades  were  all  at  the  bottom  of  the 
sea!" 

"We  couldn't  see  them  then,  for  we're  not  mermaids  or 
fishes." 

"Will  you  never  be  serious  ?" 

"I  don't  know ;  perhaps  I  may,  when  I'm  too  sick  to  be 
otherwise.  Are  you  going  to  get  up?" 

"No." 

"Do  you  mean  to  stay  in  bed  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  miss  the  parade  to-night?" 

"I  don't  care  for  the  old  parade." 

"Well,  I  do,  and  I'm  going  to  see  it." 

"Will  you  see  some  newspaper  reporters  and  state  that 
I  am  very  ill — dangerously  ill — that  I  am  dying.  Do  this 
favor  for  me,  Frank.  Colonel  Vallier  can't  force  a  dying 
man  to  meet  him  in  a  duel." 

"I  am  shocked  and  pained,  professor,  that  you  should 
wish  me  to  tell  a  lie,  even  to  save  your  life;  but  I'll  see 
what  I  can  do  for  you." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

LED     INTO     A     TRAP. 

Frank  ate  alone,  and  went  forth  alone  to  see  the  parade. 
The  professor  remained  in  bed,  apparently  in  a  state  of 
utter  collapse. 

The  night  after  Mardi  Gras  in  New  Orleans  the 
Krewe  of  Proteus  holds  its  parade  and  ball.  The  parade 
is  a  most  dazzling  and  magnificent  spectacle,  and  the  ball 
is  no  less  splendid. 

The  streets  along  which  the  parade  must  pass  were 
lined  with  a  dense  mass  of  people  on  both  sides,  while 
windows  and  balconies  were  filled. 

Shortly  after  the  appointed  time  the  parade  started. 

It  consisted  of  a  series  of  elaborate  and  gorgeous  floats, 
the  whole  forming  a  line  many  blocks  in  length. 

Hundreds  of  flaring  torches  threw  their  lights  over  the 
moving  tableau,  and  it  was  indeed  a  splendid  dream. 

Never  before  had  Frank  seen  anything  of  the  kind  one- 
half  as  beautiful,  and  he  was  sincerely  glad  they  had 
reached  the  Crescent  City  in  time  to  be  present  at  Mardi 
Gras. 

The  stampede  of  the  Texan  steers  and"  the  breaking  up 
of  the  parade  that  day  had  made  a  great  sensation  in  New 
Orleans.  Every  one  had  heard  of  the  peril  of  the  Flower 
Queen,  and  how  she  was  rescued  by  a  handsome  youth 
who  was  said  to  be  a  visitor  from  the  North,  but  whom 
nobody  seemed  to  know. 

Now,  the  Krewe  of  Proteus  was  composed  entirely  of 
men,  and  it  was  their  policy  to  have  nobody  but  men  in 
their  parade.  These  men  were  to  dress  as  fairies  of  both 
sexes,  as  they  were  required  to  appear  in  the  tableau  of 
"Fairyland." 

But  the  managers  of  the  affair  had  conceived  the  idea 
that  it  would  be  a  good  scheme  to  reconstruct  the  wrecked 
flower  barge  and  have  the  Queen  of  Flowers  in  the  pro 
cession. 

But  the  Queen  of  Flowers  seemed  to  be  a  mystery  to 


9£  Led  into  a  Trap. 

every  one,  and  the  managers  knew  not  how  to  reach  her. 
They  made  many  inquiries,  and  it  became  generally  known 
that  she  was  desired  for  the  procession. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  managers  received  a  brief 
note,  purporting  to  be  from  the  Flower  Queen,  assuring 
them  that  she  would  be  on  hand  to  take  part  in  the  evening 
parade. 

The  flower  barge  was  put  in  repair,  and  piled  high  with 
the  most  gorgeous  and  dainty  flowers,  and,  surmounting 
all,  was  a  throne  of  flowers. 

Before  the  time  for  starting  the  mysterious  masked 
queen  and  her  attendants  in  white  appeared. 

When  the  procession  passed  along  the  streets  the  queen 
was  recognized  everywhere,  and  the  throngs  cheered  her 
loudly. 

But,  out  of  the  thousands,  hundreds  were  heard  to  say : 

"Where  is  the  strange  youth  who  saved  her  from  the 
mad  steer?  He  should  be  on  the  same  barge." 

Frank's  heart  leaped  as  he  saw  the  mysterious  girl  in 
the  procession. 

"There  she  is !"  was  his  thought.  "How  can  I  follow 
her  ?  How  can  I  trace  her  and  find  out  who  she  is  ?" 

As  the  barge  came  nearer,  he  forced  his  way  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  crowd  that  lined  the  street,  without  hav 
ing  decided  what  he  would  do,  but  hoping  she  would  see 
and  recognize  him. 

When  the  barge  was  almost  opposite,  he  stepped  out  a 
little  from  the  line  and  lifted  his  hat. 

She  saw  him ! 

In  a  moment,  as  if  she  had  been  looking  for  him,  she 
caught  the  crown  of  flowers  from  her  head  and  tossed 
them  toward  him,  crying: 

"For  the  hero !" 

He  caught  them  skillfully  with  his  right  hand,  his  hat 
still  in  his  left.  And  the  hot  blood  mounted  to  his  face 
as  he  saw  her  tossing  kisses  toward  him  with  both  hands. 

"What's  it  mean?"  asked  a  spectator. 

"Don't  know,"  answered  another. 

But  a  third  cried : 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  means !  That  young  fellow  is  the 
one  who  saved  the  Queen  of  Flowers  from  the  mad  steer ! 
I  know  him,  for  I  saw  him  do  it,  and  I  observed  his  face." 


Led  into  a  Trap.  97 

"That  explains  why  she  flung  her  crown  to  him  and 
called  him  the  hero." 

"Yes,  that  explains  it." 

"Three  cheers  for  the  hero !" 

"Hurrah !  hurrah !  hurrah !" 

The  crowd  burst  into  wild  cheering,  and  there  was  a 
general  struggle  to  get  a  fair  view  of  Frank  Merriwell, 
who  had  suddenly  become  the  object  of  attention,  the 
splendors  of  the  parade  being  forgotten  for  the  time. 

Frank  was  confused  and  bewildered,  and  he  sought  to 
get  away  as  quickly  as  possible,  hoping  to  follow  the 
Queen  of  Flowers.  But  he  found  his  way  blocked  on 
every  hand,  and  a  hundred  voices  seemed  to  be  asking : 

"What's  your  name?" 

"Where  do  you  belong?" 

"Won't  you  please  tell  us  your  name  ?" 

"Haven't  I  seen  you  in  New  York?" 

"Aren't  you  from  Chicago?" 

Somewhat  dazed  though  he  was,  Frank  noted  that,  be 
yond  a  doubt,  the  ones  who  were  so  very  curious  and 
who  so  rudely  demanded  his  name  were  visitors  in  New 
Orleans.  More  than  that,  from  their  appearance,  they 
were  people  who  would  not  think  of  such  acts  at  home, 
but  now  were  eager  to  know  the  Northern  lad  who  by 
one  nervy  and  daring  act  had  made  himself  generally 
talked  about  in  a  Southern  city. 

Some  of  the  women  declared  he  was  "So  handsome!" 
and  "So  manly !"  to  Frank's  increasing  dismay. 

"I'd  give  a  hundred  dollars  to  get  out  of  this!"  he 
thought. 

He  must  have  spoken  the  words  aloud,  although  he 
was  not  aware  of  it,  for  a  voice  at  his  elbow,  low  and 
musical,  said: 

"Come  dis-a-way,  senor,  an'  I  will  tek  yo'  out  of  it." 

Frank  saw  Manuel  Mazaro  close  at  hand.  The  Span 
iard — for  such  Mazaro  was — bowed  gracefully,  and 
smiled  pleasantly  upon  the  boy  from  the  North. 

A  moment  Frank  hesitated,  and  then  he  said : 

"Lead  on;  I'll  follow." 

Quickly  Mazaro  skirted  the  edge  of  the  throng  for  a 
short  distance,  plunged  into  the  mass,  made  sure  Frank 


98  Led  into  a  Trap. 

was  close  behind,  and  then  forced  his  way  through  to  a 
doorway. 

"Dis-a  way,"  he  invited. 

Frank  hesitated. 

"Where  does  it  lead?" 

"Through  a  passage  to  annodare  street,  senor." 

Frank  felt  his  revolver  in  his  pocket,  and  he  knew  it 
was  loaded  for  instant  use. 

"I  want  to  get  ahead  of  this  procession — I  want  to  see 
the  Queen  of  Flowers  again." 

"I  will  tek  yo'  there,  senor." 

"Lead  on." 

Frank  passed  his  hand  through  the  crown  of  flowers, 
to  which  he  still  clung.  Without  being  seen,  he  took  his 
revolver  from  his  pocket,  and  held  it  concealed  in  the 
mass  of  flowers.  It  was  a  self-cocker,  and  he  could  use 
it  skillfully. 

As  Mazaro  had  said,  the  doorway  led  into  a  passage. 
This  was  very  narrow,  and  quite  dark. 

No  sooner  were  they  fairly  in  this  place  than  Frank 
regretted  that  he  had  come,  for  he  realized  that  it  was  a 
most  excellent  chance  for  assassination  and  robbery. 

His  one  fear  was  of  being  attacked  behind.  He  was 
quite  ready  for  any  that  might  rise  in  front. 

"Dis-a  way,  senor,"  Mazaro  kept  repeating.  "Dis-a 
way." 

Frank  fancied  the  fellow  was  speaking  louder  than 
was  necessary.  In  fact,  he  could  not  see  that  it  was  nec 
essary  for  Mazaro  to  speak  at  all. 

And  then  the  boy  was  sure  he  heard  footsteps  behind 
them! 

He  was  caught  between  two  fires — he  was  trapped ! 

Frank's  first  impulse  was  to  leap  forward,  knock  Ma 
zaro  down,  and  take  to  his  heels,  keeping  straight  on 
through  the  passage. 

A  second  thought  followed  the  first  quite  swiftly. 

He  knew  not  where  the  passage  led,  and  he  knew  not 
what  pitfalls  it  might  contain. 

At  that  moment  Frank  felt  a  thrill  of  actual  fear,  nervy 
though  he  was;  but  he  understood  that  he  must  not  let 
fear  get  the  best  of  him,  and  he  instantly  flung  it  off. 


Led  into  a  Trap  99 

His  ears  were  open,  his  eyes  were  open,  and  every 
sense  was  on  the  alert. 

"Let  them  come !"  he  almost  exclaimed,  aloud.  "I  will 
give  them  a  warm  reception !" 

Then  he  noticed  that  they  passed  a  narrow  opening, 
like  a  broken  door,  and,  the  next  moment  he  seemed  to 
feel  cat-like  footfalls  at  his  very  heels. 

In  a  twinkling  Frank  whirled  about,  crying : 

"Hold  up  where  you  are!  I  am  armed,  and  I'll  shoot 
if  crowded !" 

He  had  made  no  mistake,  for  his  eyes  had  grown  ac 
customed  to  the  darkness  of  the  passage,  and  he  could  see 
three  dark  figures  blocking  his  retreat  along  the  passage. 

For  one  brief  second  his  eyes  turned  the  other  way, 
and  it  seemed  that  Manuel  Mazaro  had  been  joined  by 
two  or  three  others,  for  he  saw  several  forms  in  that  di 
rection. 

This  sudden  action  of  the  trapped  boy  had  filled  these 
fellows  with  surprise  and  dismay,  and  curses  of  anger 
broke  from  their  lips,  the  words  being  hissed  rather  than 
spoken. 

Frank  knew  he  must  attract  attention  in  some  way,  and 
so  of  a  sudden  he  fired  a  shot  into  the  air. 

The  flash  of  his  revolver  showed  him  several  dark,  vil 
lainous  faces. 

"Upon  him!"  cried  Mazaro,  in  Spanish.  "Be  quick 
about  it !" 

"Back !"  shouted  Frank,  lifting  the  revolver.  "I'll  not 
waste  another  bullet !" 

"Thot's  th'  talk,  me  laddybuck!"  rang  out  a  familiar 
voice.  "Give  th'  spalpanes  cold  lead,  an'  plinty  av  it, 
Frankie!  O'im  wid  yez!" 

"Barney  Mulloy!"  Frank  almost  screamed,  in  joyous 
amazement. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BARNEY     ON     HAND. 

"Thot's  me  name,  an'  this  is  me  marruck!"  cried  the 
Irish  lad,  from  the  darkness. 

There  was  a  hurrying  rush  of  feet,  and  then — smack  I 
smack! — two  dark  figures  were  seen  flying  through  the 
darkness  as  if  they  had  been  struck  by  battering-rams. 

"Hurrah!"  cheered  Frank,  thrusting  the  revolver  into 
his  pocket,  and  hastening  to  leap  into  the  battle.  "Give 
'em  glory,  Barney!" 

"Hurro!"  shouted  the  Irish  youth.  "Th'  United 
Shtates  an'  Ould  Oireland  foriver!  Nothing  can  shtand 
against  th'  combination !" 

This  unexpected  assault  was  too  much  for  Manuel  Ma- 
zaro  and  his  satellites. 

"Car-r-r-ramba !"  snarled  the  Spaniard.  "Dis  treek  is 
spoiled !  We  will  have  to  try  de  odare  one,  pardnares." 

"We're  reddy  fer  yer  thricks,  ye  shnakes !"  cried  Bar 
ney. 

"Are  you  armed?"  asked  Frank. 

"To  th'  muzzle  wid  grape-shot  an'  canister!"  was  the 
reply. 

But  the  boys  were  not  compelled  to  resort  to  deadly 
weapons,  for  the  Spaniard  and  his  gang  suddenly  took 
to  their  heels,  and  seemed  to  melt  away  in  the  darkness. 

"Musha!  musha!"  gasped  Barney.  "Where  hiv  they 
gone,  Oi  dunno?" 

"They've  skipped." 

"An'  lift  us  widout  sayin'  good-avenin' ?" 

"So  it  seems." 

"Th'  impoloight  rascals'  They  should  be  ashamed  av 
thimsilves !" 

"Barney!" 

"Frankie!" 

"At  school  you  had  a  way  of  always  showing  up  just 
when  you  were  needed  most,  and  you  have  not  gotten 
over  it." 


Barney  on  Hand.  101 

"It's  harrud  to  tache  an  ould  dog  new  thricks,  Frankie." 

"You  don't  want  to  learn  any  new  tricks;  the  old  ones 
you  know  are  all  right.  Barney,  give  me  your  hand." 

"Frankie,  here  it  is,  an'  I'm  wid  yez,  me  b'y,  till  Oi  have 
ter  lave  yez,  which  won't  be  in  a  hurry,  av  Oi  know  me- 
silf." 

The  two  lads  clasped  hands  in  the  darkness  of  the  pas 
sage. 

"Now,"  said  Frank,  "to  get  out  of  this  place." 

"Th'  sooner  th'  quicker." 

"Which  way  shall  we  go?" 

"Better  go  th'  way  we  came  in." 

"Right,  Barney.  But  how  in  the  world  did  you  hap 
pen  to  appear  at  such  an  opportune  moment  ?  That  sticks 
me." 

"Oi  saw  yez,  me  b'y,  whin  th'  crowd  was  cheerin'  fer 
yez,  but  Oi  couldn't  get  to  yez,  though  Oi  troied  me  bist." 

"And  you  followed." 

"Oi  did,  but  it's  lost  yez  Oi  would,  av  ye  wasn't  sane 
to  come  in  here  by  thim  as  wur  watchin'  av  yez." 

"Which  was  dead  lucky  for  me." 

"Thot  it  wur,  me  darlint,  unliss  ye  wanter  to  shoot  th' 
spalpanes  ye  wur  wid.  Av  they'd  crowded  yez,  Oi  reckon 
ye'd  found  a  way  to  dispose  av  th'  lot." 

"They  were  about  to  crowd  me  when  I  fired  into  the 
air." 

"An'  th'  flash  av  th'  revolver  showed  me  yer  face." 

"That's  how  you  were  sure  it  was  me,  is  it?" 

"Thot  wur  wan  way.  Fer  another,  Oi  hearrud  yer 
voice,  an'  ye  don't  suppose  Oi  wouldn't  know  thot  av  Oi 
should  hear  it  astraddle  av  th'  North  Pole,  do  yez?" 

"Well,  I  am  sure  I  knew  your  voice  the  moment  I  heard 
it,  and  the  sound  gave  no  small  amount  of  satisfaction." 

The  boys  now  hurried  back  along  the  narrow  passage, 
and  soon  reached  the  doorway  by  which  they  had  en 
tered. 

The  procession  had  passed  on,  and  the  great  crowd  of 
people  had  melted  from  the  street. 

As  soon  as  they  were  outside  the  passage,  Barney  ex 
plained  that  he  had  arrived  in  town  that  night,  and  had 
hurried  to  the  St.  Charles  Hotel,  but  had  found  Professor 
Scotch  in  bed,  and  Frank  gone. 


102  Barney  on  Hand. 

"Th'  profissor  was  near  scared  to  death  av  me,"  said 
Barney.  "He  wouldn't  let  me  in  th'  room  till  th' 
bellboy  had  described  me  two  or  thray  toimes  over,  an' 
whin  Oi  did  come  in,  he  had  his  head  under  th'  clothes, 
an',  be  me  soul !  I  thought  by  th'  sound  that  he  wur 
shakin'  dice.  It  wuz  the  tathe  av  him  chattering  to- 
gither." 

Frank  was  convulsed  with  laughter,  while  Barney  went 
on: 

"  Trofissor,'  sez  Oi,  'av  it's  doice  ye're  shakin',  Oi'll 
take  a  hand  at  tin  cints  a  corner.' " 

"What  did  he  do  then?" 

"He  looked  out  at  me  over  the  edge  av  th'  bed-sprid, 
an'  he  sez,  sez  he,  'Are  ye  sure  ye're  yersilf,  Barney  Mul- 
loy  ?  or  are  ye  Colonel  Sally  de  la  Vilager'— or  something 
av  th'  sort — 'in  disguise  ?'  " 

Frank  laughed  harder  than  before. 

"What  did  you  do  then,  Barney?" 

"Oi  looked  at  him,  an'  thot  wur  all  Oi  said.  Oi  didn't 
know  what  th'  mon  mint,  an'  he  samed  to  be  too  broke 
up  to  tell.  Oi  asked  him  where  yo  wur,  an'  he  said  ye'd 
gone  out  to  see  th'  parade.  Whin  Oi  found  out  thot  wur 
all  Oi  could  get  out  av  him,  Oi  came  out  an'  looked  fer 
yez." 

When  Frank  had  ceased  to  laugh,  he  explained  the 
meaning  of  the  professor's  strange  actions,  and  it  was 
Barney's  turn  to  laugh. 

"So  it's  a  duel  he  is  afraid  av,  is  it?" 

"Yes." 

"An'  he  wants  a  substitute?" 

"Yes." 

"Begobs,  it's  niver  a  duel  was  Oi  in,  but  the  profissor 
wuz  koind  to  me  at  Fardale,  an'  it's  a  debt  av  gratitude 
Oi  owe  him,  so  Oi'll  make  me  bluff." 

"I  do  not  believe  Colonel  Vallier  will  meet  any  one  but 
Professor  Scotch,  but  the  professor  will  be  too  ill  to  meet 
him,  so  he  will  have  to  accept  a  substitute,  or  go  without 
a  fight." 

"To  tell  ye  th'  truth,  Frankie,  Oi'd  rather  he'd  refuse 
to  accept,  but  it's  an  iligant  bluff  Oi  can  make." 

"You're  all  right,  Barney." 

"Tell  me  what  brought  this  duel  aboit." 


Barney  on  Hand.  103 

So  Frank  told  the  whole  story  about  the  rescue  of  the 
Flower  Queen,  the  appearance  of  Rolf  Raymond  and 
Colonel  Vallier,  and  how  the  masked  girl  had  called  his 
name  just  as  they  were  taking  her  away,  with  the  result 
already  known  to  the  reader. 

Barney  was  intensely  interested. 

"An'  thot  wur  her  Oi  saw  in  th'  parade  to-noight?" 

"Yes." 

"She  flung  ye  some  flowers?" 

"She  did.  It  was  her  crown  of  flowers.  I  still  have 
it  here,  although  it  is  somewhat  crushed." 

"Ah,  Frankie,  me  b'y,  it's  a  shly  dog  ye  are!  Th' 
girruls  wur  foriver  getting  shtuck  on  yez,  an'  Oi  dunno 
what  ye  hiv  been  doin'  since  1'avin'  Fardale.  It's  wan 
av  yer  mashes  this  must  be." 

"I've  made  no  mashes,  Barney." 

"Not  m'anin'  to,  perhaps,  but  ye  can't  hilp  it,  laddy- 
buck,  fer  they  will  get  shtuck  on  yez,  av  ye  want  thim  to 
or  not.  Ye  don't  hiv  ter  troy  to  catch  a  girrul,  Frankie." 

"But  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  cannot  imagine  who 
this  can  be.  All  the  curiosity  in  my  nature  is  aroused, 
and  I  am  determined  to  know  her  name  before  I  rest." 

"Well,  b'y,  Oi'm  wid  yez.     What  shall  we  do?" 

"Go  to  the  place  where  the  Krewe  of  Proteus  holds  its 
ball." 

"Lade  on." 

As  both  were  strangers  in  New  Orleans,  they  did  not 
know  how  to  make  the  shortest  cut  to  the  ballroom,  and 
Frank  found  it  impossible  to  obtain  a  carriage.  They 
were  delayed  most  exasperatingly,  and,  when  they  ar 
rived  at  the  place  where  the  ball  was  to  be  held,  the  pro 
cession  had  broken  up,  and  the  Queen  of  Flowers  was 
within  the  ballroom. 

"This  is  most  unfortunate!"  cried  Frank,  in  dismay. 
"I  meant  to  get  here  ahead  of  the  procession,  so  that 
I  could  speak  to  her  before  she  got  inside." 

"Well,  let's  go  in  an'  spake  to  her  now." 

"We  can't." 

"Whoy  not?" 

"This  is  a  very  exclusive  affair." 

"An5  we're  very  ixclusive  paple." 

"Only  those  having  invitations  can  enter  the  ballroom." 


IO4  Barney  on  Hand. 

"Is  thot  so?  Thin  it's  outsoide  we're  lift.  What  can 
we  do  about  thot  ?" 

"Nothing." 

"Is  it  too  late  to  git  invoitations  ?" 

"They  can't  be  bought,  like  tickets." 

"Well,  what  koind  av  a  shindig  do  ye  call  this,  Oi 
dunno  ?" 

Barney  was  thoroughly  disgusted. 

Frank  explained  that  Professor  Scotch  had  been  able 
to  procure  invitations,  but  neither  of  them  had  fancied 
they  would  care  to  attend  the  ball,  so  the  opportunity  had 
been  neglected. 

"Whinever  Oi  can  get  something  fer  nothing,  Oi  take 
it,"  said  Barney.  "It's  a  use  Oi  can  make  fer  most  things 
Oi  get." 

The  two  boys  lingered  outside  the  building.  Frank 
hoped  the  Flower  Queen  would  come  out,  and  he  would 
be  able  to  speak  to  her  before  she  entered  a  carriage  and 
was  carried  away. 

Sweet  strains  of  music  floated  down  to  the  ears  of  the 
restless  lads,  and,  with  each  passing  moment,  Frank  grew 
more  and  more  disgusted  with  himself. 

"To  think  that  I  might  be  in  there — might  be  waltzing 
with  the  Queen  of  Flowers  at  this  moment,  if  I  had  asked 
the  professor  to  obtain  the  invitations !"  he  cried. 

"It's  harrud  luck !"  said  Barney ;  "but  ye'll  know  betther 
next  toime." 

"Next  time  will  be  too  late.  In  some  way,  I  must  meet 
this  girl  and  speak  to  her.  I  must,  and  I  will !" 

"That's  th'  shtuff,  me  b'y !  Whiniver  ye  say  anything 
loike  thot,  ye  always  git  there  wid  both  fate.  Oi'll  risk 
yez." 

Two  men  in  dress  suits  came  out  to  smoke  and  get  a 
breath  of  air.  They  stood  conversing  within  a  short  dis 
tance  of  the  boys. 

"She  has  been  the  sensation  of  the  day,"  said  one. 
"The  whole  city  is  wondering  who  she  is." 

"She  seems  determined  to  remain  a  mystery." 

"Yes,  for  she  has  vanished  from  the  ballroom  in  a 
most  unaccountable  manner.  No  one  saw  her  take  her 
departure." 

"Not  even  Rolf  Raymond." 


Barney  on  Hand.  105 

"No.  He  is  as  much  mystified  as  anybody.  The  fel 
low  knows  her,  but  he  positively  refuses  to  disclose  her 
identity." 

Frank's  hand  had  fallen  on  Barney's  arm  with  a  grip  of 
iron,  and  the  fingers  were  sinking  deeper  and  deeper  into 
the  Irish  lad's  flesh  as  these  words  fell  on  their  ears. 

"It  is  said  that  the  young  fellow  who  saved  her  from 
the  steer  to-day  does  not  know  her." 

"No.  She  saw  him  in  the  crowd  to-night,  and  flung 
him  her  crown,  calling  him  a  hero.  He  was  nearly 
mobbed  by  the  crowd,  that  was  determined  to  know  his 
name,  but  he  escaped  in  some  way,  and  has  not  been  seen 
since." 

"That  settles  it !"  Frank  hissed  in  Barney's  ear.  "They 
are  speaking  of  the  Flower  Queen." 

"Sure,"  returned  the  Irish  lad ;  "an5  av  yersilf,  Frankie, 

b'y." 

"She  is  no  longer  in  the  ballroom." 
"No." 

"We  are  wasting  our  time  waiting  here." 
"Roight  ye  are." 

"Then  we  will  wait  no  longer.  Come,  we'll  go  to  the 
hotel." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A    HUMBLE    APOLOGY. 

Barely  were  they  in  their  apartments  at  the  hotel  when 
there  came  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  a  boy  entered,  bear 
ing  a  salver  on  which  were  two  cards. 

"Colonel  La  Salle  Vallier  and  Mr.  Rolf  Raymond," 
read  Frank.  "Bring  them  up." 

"What's  that  ?"  roared  Professor  Scotch,  from  the  bed. 
"Are  you  crazy  ?" 

Frank  hustled  the  boy  out  of  the  room,  whispering : 

"Bring  them  up,  and  admit  them  without  knocking." 

He  slipped  a  quarter  into  the  boy's  hand,  and  the  little 
fellow  grinned  and  hurried  away. 

Frank  turned  back  to  find  Professor  Scotch,  in  his 
night  robe,  standing  square  in  the  middle  of  the  bed, 
wildly  waving  his  arms,  and  roaring : 

"Lock  the  door — barricade  it — keep  them  out !  If  those 
desperadoes  are  admitted  here,  this  room  will  run  red 
with  gore!" 

"That's  right,  professor,"  agreed  Frank.  "We'll  settle 
their  hash  right  here  and  at  once.  We'll  cook  'em." 

"Whoop!"  shouted  the  little  professor,  in  his  big, 
hoarse  voice.  "This  is  murder — assassination !  Lock 
the  door,  I  say !  I  am  in  no  condition  to  receive  visitors." 

"Be  calm,  professor,"  chirped  Frank,  soothingly. 

"Be  calm,  profissor,"  echoed  Barney,  serenely. 

"Be  calm !"  bellowed  the  excited  little  man.  "How  can 
I  be  calm  on  the  eve  of  murder  and  assassination  ?  I  am 
an  unarmed  man,  and  I  am  not  even  dressed !" 

"Niver  moind  a  little  thing  loike  thot,"  purred  the  Irish 
lad. 

"It's  of  no  consequence,"  declared  Frank,  placidly. 

"No  consequence !"  shouted  Scotch.  "Oh,  you'll  drive 
me  crazy!  You  want  me  to  be  killed!  It  is  a  plot  to 
have  me  murdered !  I  see  through  the  vile  scheme !  I'll 
call  the  police!" 


A  Humble  Apology.  107 

He  rushed  into  the  front  room,  and  flung  up  a  window, 
from  which  he  howled : 

"Fire!    Police!" 

He  would  have  shrieked  murder  and  several  other 
things,  but  Frank  and  Barney  dragged  him  back  and 
closed  the  window. 

"Great  Scott!"  gasped  Frank.  "It'll  be  a  wonder  if 
the  whole  police  force  of  the  city  does  not  come  rushing 
up  here." 

"Perhaps  they'll  not  be  able  to  locate  th'  spot  from 
which  th'  croy  came,"  said  Barney.  "Let  us  hope  not." 

"Yes,  let  us  hope  not." 

The  professor  squirmed  out  of  the  grasp  of  the  two 
boys,  and  made  a  wild  dash  for  the  door. 

Just  before  he  reached  it,  the  door  was  flung  open,  and 
Colonel  Vallier,  followed  by  Rolf  Raymond,  strode  into 
the  room. 

The  colonel  and  the  professor  met  just  within  the  door 
way. 

The  collision  was  violent,  and  both  men  recoiled  and 
sat  down  heavily  upon  the  floor,  while  Rolf  Raymond 
barely  saved  himself  from  falling  astride  the  colonel's 
neck. 

Sitting  thus,  the  two  men  glared  at  each  other,  the 
colonel  being  in  a  dress  suit,  while  the  professor  wore  a 
night  robe. 

Frank  and  Barney  could  not  restrain  their  laughter. 

Then  a  most  remarkable  thing  happened. 

Professor  Scotch  became  so  angry  at  what  he  con 
sidered  the  unwarranted  intrusion  of  the  visitors  that  he 
forgot  how  he  was  dressed,  forgot  to  be  scared,  and  grew 
fierce  as  a  raging  lion.  Without  rising,  he  leaned  for 
ward,  and  shook  his  fist  under  Colonel  Vallier's  nose,  lit 
erally  roaring: 

"What  do  you  mean  by  entering  this  room  without 
knocking,  you  miserable  old  blowhard?  You  ought  to 
have  your  face  thumped,  and,  by  thunder !  I  believe  I  can 
do  it !" 

"Sah!"  gasped  the  colonel,  in  the  greatest  amazement 
and  dismay. 

"Don't  'sah'  me,  you  measly  old  fraud  !"  howled  Scotch, 
waving  his  fists  in  the  air.  "I  don't  believe  in  fighting,  but 


io8  A  Humble  Apology. 

this  is  about  my  time  to  scrap.  If  you  don't  apologize 
for  the  intrusion,  may  I  be  blown  to  ten  thousand  frag 
ments  if  I  don't  give  you  a  pair  of  beautiful  black  eyes !" 

"Sah,  there  seems  to  be  some  mistake,  sah,"  fluttered 
Colonel  Vallier,  turning  pale. 

"You  made  the  mistake !"  thundered  Scotch,  leaping 
to  his  feet  like  a  jumping  jack.  "Get  up  here,  and  let 
me  knock  you  down!" 

"I  decline  to  be  struck,  sah." 

"You  don't  dare  to  get  up!"  howled  the  excited  little 
man,  growing  still  worse,  as  the  colonel  seemed  to  shrink 
and  falter.  "Why,  I  can  lick  you  in  a  fraction  of  no 
time !  You've  been  making  lots  of  fighting  talk,  and  now 
it's  my  turn.  Get  up  and  put  up  your  fists." 

"Will  somebody  kindly  hold  this  lunatic?"  palpitated 
Colonel  Vallier.  "I  am  no  prize-fightah,  gentlemen." 

"That  isn't  my  lookout,"  said  the  professor,  who  was 
forcing  things  while  they  ran  his  way.  "Get  up  and  take 
off  your  coat !  We'll  settle  this  affair  without  delay." 

"With  pistols,  sah?" 

"Yes,  with  pistols,  if  you  want  to !"  cried  the  professor, 
to  the  amazement  of  the  boys.  "I  am  ready,  sir.  We 
will  settle  it  with  pistols,  at  once,  in  this  room." 

"But  this  is  no  place  foh  a  duel,  sah ;  yo'  should  know 
that,  sah." 

"This  is  just  the  place." 

"The  one  who  survives  will  be  arrested,  sah." 

"There  won't  be  a  survivor,  so  you  needn't  fear  arrest." 

"No  survivah,  sah?" 

"No." 

"How  is  that?" 

"I'll  tell  you  how  it  is.  You  are  such  a  blamed  coward 
that  you  won't  fight  me  with  your  fists,  for  fear  I  will 
give  you  the  thumping  you  deserve ;  but  you  know  you  are 
a  good  pistol  shot,  and  you  think  I  am  not,  so  you  hope 
to  shoot  me,  and  escape  without  harm  to  yourself.  Well, 
I  am  no  pistol  shot,  but  I  am  not  going  to  miss  you. 
We'll  shoot  across  that  center  table,  and  the  width  of  the 
table  is  the  distance  that  will  divide  us.  In  that  way,  I'll 
stand  as  good  a  show  as  you  do,  and  I'll  agree  to  shoot 
you  through  the  body  very  near  to  the  heart,  so  you'll  not 
linger  long  in  agony.  Come,  sir,  get  ready." 


A  Humble  Apology.  109 

Colonel  Vallier  actually  staggered. 

"Sah — sah !"  he  fluttered ;  "you're  shorely  crazy !" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.     Come,  get  ready !" 

"This  is  murder,  sah!" 

"It  is  a  square  deal.  One  has  as  good  show  as  the 
other." 

"But  I — I  never  heard  of  such  a  duel — never !" 

"There  are  many  things  you  have  never  heard  about, 
Colonel  Vallier." 

"But,  sah,  I  can't  fight  that  way!  You'll  have  to  ex 
cuse  me,  sah." 

"What's  that!"  howled  the  little  professor,  dancing 
about  in  his  night  robe.  "Do  you  refuse  to  give  me  satis 
faction  ?" 

"I  refuse  to  be  murdered." 

"Then  you'll  apologize?" 

The  colonel  gasped. 

"Apologize !     Why,  I  can't " 

"Then  I'm  going  to  give  you  those  black  eyes  just  as 
sure  as  my  name  is  Scotch  !  Put  up  your  fists  !" 

The  colonel  retreated,  holding  up  his  hands  helplessly, 
while  the  professor  pranced  after  him  like  a  fighting  cock. 

"This  is  disgraceful!"  snapped  Rolf  Raymond,  taking 
a  step,  as  if  to  interfere.  "It  must  be  stopped  at  once !" 

"Hold  on !"  came  sternly  from  Frank.  "Don't  chip  in 
where  you're  not  wanted,  Mr.  Raymond.  Let  them  settle 
this  matter  themselves." 

"Thot's  roight,  me  laddybuck,"  said  Barney  Mulloy. 
"If  you  bother  thim,  it's  a  pair  av  black  oies  ye  may  own 
yersilf." 

"We  did  not  come  here  to  be  bullied." 

"No,"  said  Frank;  "you  came  to  play  the  bullies,  and 
the  tables  have  been  turned  on  you.  Take  it  easy." 

The  two  boys  placed  themselves  in  such  a  position  that 
they  could  prevent  Raymond  from  interfering  between 
the  colonel  and  the  professor. 

"Don't  strike  me,  sah !"  gasped  Vallier,  holding  up  his 
open  hands,  with  the  palms  toward  the  bantam-like  pro 
fessor. 

"Then  do  you  apologize  ?" 

"You  will  strike  me  if  I  do  not  apologize?" 

"You  may  bet  your  life  that  I  will,  colonel." 


no  A  Humble  Apology. 

"Then  I — ah — I'll  have  to  apologize,  sah." 

"And  this  settles  the  entire  affair  between  us?" 

"Eh — I  don't  know  about  that." 

"Well,  you  had  better  know.  Does  this  settle  the  en 
tire  affair?" 

"I  suppose  so,  sah." 

"You  apologize  most  humbly  ?" 

"I  do." 

"And  you  state  of  your  own  free  will  that  this  settles 
all  trouble  between  us  ?" 

The  colonel  hesitated,  and  Scotch  lifted  his  fists  men 
acingly. 

"I  do,  sah — I  do!"  Vallier  hastened  to  say. 

"Then  that's  right,"  said  Professor  Scotch,  airily. 
"You  have  escaped  the  worst  thumping  you  ever  received 
in  all  your  life,  and  you  should  congratulate  yourself." 

Frank  felt  like  cheering  with  delight.  Surely  Professor 
Scotch  had  done  himself  proud,  and  the  termination  of 
the  affair  had  been  quite  unexpected  by  the  boys. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
THE  PROFESSOR'S  COURAGE. 

Colonel  Vallier  seemed  utterly  crestfallen  and  subdued, 
but  Rolf  Raymond's  face  was  dark  with  anger,  as  he 
harshly  said : 

"Now  that  this  foolishness  is  over,  we  will  proceed  to 
business." 

"That's  right,"  bowed  Frank.  "The  quicker  you  pro 
ceed  the  better  satisfied  we  will  be.  Go  ahead." 

Rolf  turned  fiercely  on  Frank,  almost  snarling: 

"You  must  have  been  at  the  bottom  of  it  all !  Where 
is  she?" 

Frank  was  astonished,  as  his  face  plainly  showed. 

"Where  is  she  ?"  he  repeated. 

"Whom  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

"It  is  useless  to  pretend  that  you  do  not  know.  You 
must  have  found  an  opportunity  to  communicate  with  her 
somehow,  although  how  you  accomplished  it  is  more  than 
I  understand." 

"You  are  speaking  in  riddles.  Say  what  you  mean, 
man." 

"I  will.  If  you  do  not  immediately  tell  us  where  she 
is,  you  will  find  yourself  in  serious  trouble.  Is  that  plain 
enough  ?" 

A  light  came  to  Frank. 

"Do  you  mean  the  Queen  of  Flowers?"  he  eagerly 
asked. 

"You  know  I  mean  the  Queen  of  Flowers." 

"And  you  do  not  know  what  has  become  of  her  ?" 

"How  can  we?  She  disappeared  mysteriously  from 
the  ballroom.  No  one  saw  her  leave,  but  she  went." 

"She  must  have  returned  to  her  home." 

"That  will  not  go  with  us,  Merriwell,  for  we  hastened 
to  the  place  where  she  is  stopping  with  her  father,  and 
she  was  not  there,  nor  had  he  seen  her.  He  cannot  live 
long,  and  this  blow  will  hasten  the  end.  You  will  be  re- 


f 


H2  The  Professor's  Courage. 

sponsible.  Take  my  advice  and  give  her  up  at  once,  un 
less  you  wish  to  get  into  trouble  of  a  most  serious  nature." 

Frank  saw  that  Raymond  actually  believed  he  knew 
what  had  become  of  the  Flower  Queen. 

"Look  here,"  came  swiftly  from  the  boy's  lips,  "it  is 
plain  this  is  no  time  to  waste  words.  I  do  not  know 
what  has  become  of  the  Flower  Queen,  that  is  straight. 
I  did  know  she  had  disappeared  from  the  ballroom,  but  I 
supposed  she  had  returned  to  her  home.  I  do  not  know 
her  name  as  yet,  although  she  knows  mine.  If  anything 
has  happened  to  her,  I  am  not  responsible  ;  but  I  take  a 
great  interest  in  her,  and  I  am  ready  and  eager  to  be  of 
assistance  to  her.  Tell  me  her  name,  as  that  will  aid 
me." 

Rolf  Raymond  could  not  doubt  Frank's  words,  for 
honesty  was  written  on  the  boy's  face. 

"Her  name,"  he  said  —  "her  name  is  —  for  you  to  learn." 

His  taunting  laugh  brought  the  warm  blood  to  Frank's 
face. 

"All  right  !"  cried  the  boy  from  the  North.  "I'll  learn 
it,  no  thanks  to  you.  More  than  that,  if  she  needs  my 
aid,  she  shall  have  it.  It  strikes  me  that  she  may  have 
fled  of  her  own  accord  to  escape  being  persecuted  by  you. 
If  so  -  " 

"What  then?" 

"We'll  meet  again." 

"That  we  will  !  Colonel  Vallier  may  have  settled  his 
trouble  with  Professor  Scotch,  but  mine  is  not  settled  with 


"You  are  right." 

"We  may  yet  meet  on  the  field  of  honor." 

"I  shall  be  pleased  to  accommodate  you,"  flashed  Frank  ; 
"and  the  sooner,  the  better  it  will  satisfy  me." 

"Thot's  th'  talk!"  cried  Barney  Mulloy,  admiringly. 
"You  can  do  th'  spalpane,  Frankie,  at  any  old  thing  he'll 
name  !" 

"The  disappearance  of  Miss  -  ,  the  Flower  Queen, 
prevents  the  setting  of  a  time  and  place,"  said  Raymond, 
passionately  ;  "but  you  shall  be  waited  on  as  soon  as  she 
is  found.  Until  then  I  must  let  nothing  interfere  with 
my  search  for  her." 

"Very  good;  that  is  satisfactory  to  me,  and  I  will  do 


The  Professor's  Courage.  11} 

my  best  to  help  find  her  for  you.  Now,  if  your  business 
is  quite  over,  gentlemen,  your  room  would  give  us  much 
more  pleasure  than  your  company." 

Not  another  word  did  Raymond  or  Vallier  say,  but 
they  strode  stiffly  to  the  door  and  bowed  themselves  out. 
Barney  closed  the  door  after  them. 

Then  both  the  boys  turned  on  Professor  Scotch,  to  find 
he  had  collapsed  into  a  chair,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of 
swooning. 

"Professor,"  cried  Frank,  "I  want  to  congratulate  you ! 
That  was  the  best  piece  of  work  you  ever  did  in  all  your 
life." 

"Profissor,"  exclaimed  Barney,  "ye're  a  jewil!  Av 
inny  wan  iver  says  you  lack  nerve,  may  Oi  be  bitten  by 
th'  wurrust  shnake  in  Oireland  av  Oi  don't  break  his 
head!" 

"Boys!"  gasped  the  professor,  "fan  me!  I  can't  seem 
to  get  my  breath!  How  did  I  do  it?  It  scares  me  to 
think  of  it." 

"You  were  a  man,  professor,  and  you  showed  Colonel 
Vallier  that  you  were  utterly  reckless.  You  seemed  eager 
for  a  fight." 

"Fight!"  groaned  the  little  man.  "I  couldn't  fight  a 
child !  I  never  fought  in  my  life.  I  don't  know  how  to 
fight." 

"Colonel  Vallier  didn't  know  that.  It  was  plain,  he 
believed  you  a  desperate  slugger,  and  he  wilted  imme 
diately." 

"But  I  can't  understand  how  I  came  to  do  such  a  thing. 
Till  their  unwarranted  intrusion — till  I  collided  with  the 
colonel — I  was  in  terror  for  my  life.  The  moment  we 
collided  I  seemed  to  forget  that  I  was  scared,  and  I  re 
membered  only  that  I  was  mad." 

"And  you  seemed  more  than  eager  for  a  scrap." 

"Ye  samed  doying  fer  a  bit  av  a  row,  profissor." 

"What  if  he  had  struck  me !"  palpitated  the  little  man. 
"Oh,  gracious !  It  would  have  been  terrible !" 

"For  him.  If  he'd  struck  you,  you'd  been  so  mad  that 
nothing  could  have  stopped  you.  You  would  have  waded 
into  him,  and  given  him  the  worst  thrashing  he  ever  re 
ceived." 

"Thot's  pwhat  ye  would,  profissor,  sure  as  fate." 


H4          The  Professor's  Courage. 

Scotch  began  to  revive,  and  the  words  of  the  boys  con 
vinced  him  that  he  was  really  a  very  brave  man,  and  had 
done  a  most  daring  thing.  Little  by  little,  he  began  to 
swell,  like  a  toad. 

"I  don't  know  but  you're  right,"  he  said,  stiffening  up. 
"I  was  utterly  reckless  and  desperate  at  the  time." 

"That's  right,  professor." 

"Profissor,  ye're  a  bad  mon  ter  buck  against." 

"That  is  a  fact  that  has  not  been  generally  known,  but, 
having  cowed  one  of  the  most  desperate  duelists  in  the 
South,  and  forced  him  to  apologize,  I  presume  I  have  a 
right  to  make  some  pretensions." 

"That's  a  fact." 

"Ye've  made  a  riccord  fer  yersilf." 

"And  a  record  to  be  proud  of,"  crowed  the  little  man, 
getting  on  his  feet  and  beginning  to  strut,  forgetful  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  in  his  night  robe  and  presented  a  most 
ludicrous  appearance.  "The  events  of  this  evening  shall 
become  a  part  of  history.  Future  generations  shall  regard 
me  as  one  of  the  most  nervy  and  daring  men  of  my  age. 
And  really,  I  don't  know  but  I  am.  What's  the  use  of 
being  a  coward  when  you  can  be  a  hero  just  as  well. 
Boys,  this  adventure  has  made  a  different  man  of  me. 
Hereafter,  you  will  see  that  I'll  not  quail  in  the  face  of 
the  most  deadly  dangers.  I'll  even  dare  to  walk  up  to 
the  mouth  of  a  cannon — if  I  know  it  isn't  loaded." 

The  boys  were  forced  to  laugh  at  his  bantam-like  ap 
pearance,  but,  for  all  of  the  queer  twist  he  had  given  his 
last  expression,  the  professor  seemed  very  serious,  and  it 
was  plain  that  he  had  begun  to  regard  himself  with  ad 
miration. 

"Think,  boys,"  he  cried— "think  of  my  offer  to  fight 
him  with  pistols  across  yonder  narrow  table !" 

"That  was  a  stroke  of  genius,  professor,"  declared 
Frank.  "That  broke  Colonel  Vallier  up  more  than  any 
thing  else." 

"He  wilted  at  that." 

"Of  course  you  did  not  mean  to  actually  fight  him  that 
way?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  swelled  the  little  man.  "I  was 
reckless  then,  and  I  didn't  care  for  anything." 

Suddenly  Frank  grew  grave. 


The  Professor's  Courage.  115 

"This  other  matter  they  spoke  of  worries  me,"  he  said. 
"I  can't  understand  what  has  happened  to  the  Queen  of 
Flowers." 

"Ye  mustn't  let  thot  worry  yez,  me  b'y." 

"I  can't  help  it." 

"She  may  be  home  by  this  toime." 

"And  she  may  be  in  desperate  need  of  a  helping  hand." 

"Av  she  is,  Oi  dunno  how  ye  can  hilp  her,  Frankie." 

"Nor  do  I  know  of  any  way.  Why  should  any  one 
kidnap  her?" 

"Oi  dunno." 

"It  would  be  a  most  daring  thing  to  do,  as  she  is  so 
well  known ;  but  there  are  daring  and  desperate  ruffians  in 
New  Orleans." 

"Oi  think  ye're  roight,  me  b'y." 

"It  may  be  that  she  has  been  persecuted  so  that  she 
fled  of  her  own  accord,  and  yet  I  hardly  think  that  is  true." 

"No  more  do  Oi,  Frankie." 

"If  it  is  not  true,  surely  she  is  in  trouble." 

"Well  ?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  remain  quietly  here,  knowing  she  may  need 
aid!" 

"Pwhat  will  yez  do?" 

"I  am  going  out." 

"Where?"' 

"Somewhere — anywhere!    Will  you  come  along?" 

"Sure,  me  b'y,  Oi'm  wid  yez  firrust,  larrust,  an'  all  th* 
toime!" 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
FRANK'S  BOLD  MOVE. 

The  professor  declined  to  go  out.  He  returned  t©  bed, 
and  the  boys  left  the  hotel.  t 

"Where  away,  Frankie?"  asked  Barney. 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Frank,  helplessly.  "There  is 
not  one  chance  in  millions  of  finding  the  lost  Flower 
Queen,  but  I  feel  that  I  must  move  about.  We'll  visit 
the  old  French  quarter  by  night.  I  have  been  there  in 
the  daytime,  and  I'd  like  to  see  how  it  looks  at  night. 
Come  on." 

And  so  they  made  their  way  to  the  French  quarter, 
crossing  Canal  Street  and  turning  into  a  quiet,  narrow 
way,  that  soon  brought  them  to  a  region  of  architectural 
decrepitude. 

The  streets  of  this  section  were  not  overlighted,  and 
seemed  very  silent  and  lonely,  as,  at  this  particular  time, 
the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  quarter  were 
away  to  the  scenes  of  pleasure. 

The  streets  echoed  to  the  boy's  feet.  There  were  queer 
balconies  on  every  hand,  the  stores  were  mere  shops,  all 
of  them  now  closed,  and  many  windows  were  nailed  up. 
Rust  and  decay  were  on  all  sides,  and  yet  there  was  some 
thing  impressive  in  the  almost  Oriental  squalor  of  the 
place. 

"It  sames  loike  we'd  left  th'  city  intoirely  for  another 
place,  so  it  does,"  muttered  Barney. 

"That  is  true,"  admitted  Frank.  "New  Orleans  seems 
like  a  human  being  with  two  personalities.  For  me  this 
is  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  city;  but  commerce  is 
beginning  to  crowd  in  here,  and  the  time  is  coming  when 
the  French  quarter  will  cease  to  be  an  attraction  for  New 
(Orleans." 

"D'ye  think  not,  Frankie?" 

"It  is  a  certain  thing." 

"Well,  we'll  get  our  look  at  it  before  it  is  gone  in 
toirely." 


Frank's  Bold  Move.  117 

A  few  dark  figures  were  moving  silently  along  the 
streets.  The  night  was  warm,  and  the  shutters  of  the 
balcony  windows  were  opened  to  admit  air. 

At  a  corner  they  halted,  and,  of  a  sudden,  Frank 
clutched  the  arm  of  his  companion,  whispering: 

"Look — see  that  man?" 

"Yes,  me  b'y." 

"Did  you  see  his  face?" 

"Nivver  a  bit." 

"Well,  I  did,  and  I  do  not  believe  I  am  mistaken  in 
thinking  I  have  seen  it  before." 

"Whin?" 

"To-night." 

"Pwhere?" 

"In  the  alley  where  I  was  trapped  by  Manuel  Mazaro 
and  his  gang." 

"It  wur  darruk  in  there,  Frankie." 

"But  I  fired  my  revolver,  and  by  the  flash  I  saw  a  face." 

"So  ye  soay." 

"It  was  the  face  of  the  man  who  just  passed  beneath 
this  light." 

"An'  pwhat  av  thot,  Frankie  ?" 

"He  might  lead  me  to  Manuel  Mazaro." 

"Pwhat  do  yez  want  to  see  thot  spalpane  fer?" 

"Mazaro  knows  a  good  deal." 

"Fer  instance,  pwhat  ?" 

"Why  I  was  attacked,  and  the  object  of  the  attack.  He 
might  be  induced  to  tell." 

"It  sure  wur  a  case  av  intinded  robbery,  me  b'y." 

"Perhaps  so,  perhaps  not.  But  he  knows  more.  He 
knows  all  about  Rolf  Raymond  and  Colonel  Vallier." 

"Well  ?" 

"Rolf  Raymond  and  Colonel  Vallier  know  a  great  deal 
about  the  lost  Flower  Queen.  It  is  possible  Mazaro 
knows  something  of  her.  Come  on,  Barney ;  we'll  follow 
that  man." 

"Jist  as  ye  say,  me  lad." 

"Take  the  other  side  of  the  street,  and  keep  him  in 
sight,  but  do  not  seem  to  be  following  him." 

They  separated,  and  both  kept  in  sight  of  the  man,  wh® 
did  not  seem  to  fear  pursuit  or  dream  any  one  was  shad 
owing  him. 


n8  Frank's  Bold  Move. 

He  led  them  straight  to  an  antiquated  story  and  a  half 
Creole  cottage,  shaded  by  a  large  willow  tree,  the  branches 
of  which  touched  the  sides  and  swept  the  round  tiles  of 
the  roof.  The  foliage  of  the  old  tree  half  concealed  the 
discolored  stucco,  which  was  dropping  off  in  many  places. 

Over  the  door  was  a  sign  which  announced  that  it  was 
a  cafe.  The  door  was  open,  and,  in  the  first  room  could 
be  seen  some  men  who  were  eating  and  drinking  at  a 
table.  There  was  another  room  beyond. 

The  man  the  boys  had  followed  entered  the  cottage, 
passed  through  the  first  room,  speaking  to  the  men  at  the 
table,  and  disappeared  into  the  room  beyond. 

Frank  and  Barney  paused  outside. 

"Are  yez  goin'  to  folly  him,  Frankie,  b'y?"  asked  the 
Irish  lad. 

"To  be  sure  I  am." 

"There's  no  tellin'  pwhat  koind  av  a  nest  ye  will  get 
inther." 

"I'll  have  to  take  my  chances  on  that." 

"Thin  Oi'm  wid  yez." 

"No,  I  want  you  to  remain  outside,  so  you  will  be  on 
hand  in  case  I  need  air." 

"How'll  I  know  ye  nade  it?" 

"You'll  hear  me  cry  or  shoot." 

"Av  Oi  do,  you'll  see  Barney  Mulloy  comin'  loike  a 
cyclone." 

"I  know  I  may  depend  on  you,  and  I  know  this  may 
be  a  nest  of  assassins.  These  Spaniards  are  hot-blooded 
fellows,  and  they  make  dangerous  rascals." 

Frank  looked  at  his  revolver,  to  make  sure  it  was  in 
perfect  working  order,  dropped  it  into  the  side  pocket  of 
his  coat,  and  walked  boldly  into  the  cottage  cafe. 

The  men  in  the  front  room  stared  at  him  in  surprise, 
but  he  did  not  seem  to  give  them  a  glance,  walking 
straight  through  into  the  next  room. 

There  he  saw  two  Spanish-looking  fellows  talking  in 
low  tones  over  a  table,  on  which  drinks  were  setting. 

One  of  them  was  the  man  he  had  followed. 

They  were  surprised  to  see  the  boy  coolly  walk  into 
the  room,  and  advance  without  hesitation  to  their  table. 

The  one  Frank  had  followed  seemed  to  recognize  the 
lad,  and  he  appeared  startled  and  somewhat  alarmed. 


Frank's  Bold  Move.  119 

With  the  greatest  politeness,  Frank  touched  his  cap, 
asking : 

"Sefior,  do  you  know  Manuel  Mazaro?" 

The  fellow  scowled,  and  hesitated,  and  then  retorted: 

"What  if  I  do?" 

"I  want  to  see  him." 

"And  you  have  come  here  for  that  ?" 

"Yes."' 

"I  will  see  if  he  be  here.     Wait." 

At  one  side  of  the  room  was  a  door,  opening  on  a  dark 
flight  of  stairs.  Through  this  doorway  and  up  the  stairs 
the  fellow  disappeared. 

Frank  sat  down  at  the  table,  feeling  the  revolver  in 
the  side  pocket  of  his  coat. 

The  other  man  did  not  attempt  to  make  any  conversa 
tion. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  one  who  had  ascended  the  stairs 
reappeared. 

"Sefior  Mazaro  will  soon  be  down,"  he  announced. 

Then  he  sat  at  the  table,  and  resumed  conversation  with 
his  companion,  speaking  in  Spanish,  and  not  even  seem 
ing  to  hear  the  "thank  you"  from  Frank. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mazaro  appeared,  and  he  came 
forward  without  hesitation,  smiling  serenely,  as  if  de 
lighted  to  see  the  boy. 

"Oh,  senor!"  he  cried,  "yo'  be  not  harm  in  de  scrape 
what  we  run  into?" 

"I  was  not  harmed,  no,  thanks  to  you,  Mazaro,"  said 
the  boy,  coolly.  "It  is  a  wonder  that  I  came  out  with  a 
whole  skin." 

"Sefior,  you  do  not  blame  me  fo'  dat?  I  deed  not 
know-a  it — I  deed  not  know-a  de  robbares  were  there." 

"Mazaro,  you  are  a  very  good  liar,  but  it  will  not  work 
with  me." 

The  Spaniard  showed  his  teeth,  and  fell  back  a  step. 

"De  young  sefior  speak-a  ver'  plain,"  he  said. 

"It  is  my  way.  Mazaro,  we  may  as  well  understand 
each  other  first  as  last.  You  are  a  scoundrel,  and  you're 
out  for  the  dollars.  Now,  it  is  possible  you  can  make 
more  money  by  serving  me  than  in  any  other  way.  If 
you  can  help  me,  I  will  pay  you  well." 

Mazaro  looked  ready  to  sink  a  knife  into  Frank's  heart 


I2O  Frank's  Bold  Move. 

a  moment  before,  but  he  suddenly  thawed.  With  the  ut 
most  politeness,  he  said : 

"I  do  not  think-a  I  know  what  de  senor  mean.  If  he 
speak-a  litt'l  plainer,  mebbe  I  ondarstan'." 

"Sit  down,  Mazaro." 

The  Spaniard  took  a  seat  at  the  table. 

"Now,"  said  Frank,  quietly,  "order  what  you  wish  to 
drink,  and  I  will  pay  for  it.  I  never  drink  myself,  and  I 
never  carry  much  money  with  me  nights,  but  I  have 
enough  to  pay  for  your  drink." 

"De  senor  is  ver'  kind,"  bowed  Manuel,  and  he  ordered 
a  drink,  which  was  brought  by  a  villainous-looking  old 
woman. 

Frank  paid,  and,  when  Mazaro  was  sipping  the  liquid, 
he  leaned  forward  and  said : 

"Senor  Mazaro,  you  know  Rolf  Raymond?" 

"Si,  senor." 

"And  Colonel  Vallier?" 

"Si,  senor." 

"And  the  Queen  of  Flowers  ?" 

"I  know  of  her,  senor;  I  see  her  to-day." 

"You  know  more.  She  has  disappeared,  and  you  know 
what  has  become  of  her." 

It  was  a  chance  shot,  but  Frank  saw  it  went  home. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  QUEEN   IS   FOUND. 

Mazaro  changed  color,  and  then  he  regained  his  com 
posure. 

"Senor,"  he  said,  smoothly,  "I  know-a  not  what  made 
you  t'ink  dat." 

"I  do  not  think;  I  know." 

"Wondareful — ver'  wondareful,"  purred  the  Spaniard, 
in  mock  admiration.  "You  give-a  me  great  s'prise." 

Frank  was  angry,  but. he  held  himself  in  restraint,  ap 
pearing  cool. 

"Your  face  betrayed  it." 

"Ah !    Dat  show  yo'  have-a  ver'  gre't  eye,  senor." 

"You  do  not  deny  it?" 

"Why  should  I  do  dat  when  you  know-a  so  much?" 

"You  dare  not  deny  it." 

"Dare,  senor?  I  dare  ver'  many  thing  you  do  n»t 
know." 

Mazaro  was  exasperatingly  cool. 

"Look  here,  man,"  said  Frank,  leaning  toward  the 
Spaniard ;  "are  you  aware  that  you  may  get  yourself  into 
serious  trouble?  Are  you  aware  that  kidnaping  is  an 
offense  that  makes  you  a  criminal  of  the  worst  sort,  and 
for  which  you  might  be  sent  up  for  twenty  years,  at 
least?" 

The  Spaniard  smiled. 

"It  is  eeze  to  talk,  but  dat  is  not  proof,"  he  said. 

"You  scoundrel !"  exclaimed  the  boy,  his  anger  getting 
the  better  of  him  for  the  moment.  "I  have  a  mind  to 
convey  my  suspicions  to  the  police,  and  then " 

"An'  den  what,  senor?  Ah!  you  talk  ver'  bol'  fo'  boy 
like  you.  Do  you  know-a  what  ?  Well,  see ;  if  I  snappa 
my  fingare,  quick  like  a  flash  you  get  a  knife  'tween  your 
shouldares.  Den  you  not  tell-a  the  police." 

Frank  could  not  repress  a  shiver.  He  looked  swiftly 
around,  and  saw  the  black  eyes  of  the  other  two  men  were 


122  The  Queen  is  Found. 

fastened  upon  him,  and  he  knew  they  were  ready  to  obey 
Mazaro's  signal. 

"Wat  yo'  t'ink-a,  senor  ?"  smiled  Manuel,  insolently. 

"That  is  very  well,"  came  calmly  from  Frank's  lips. 
"If  I  were  to  give  the  signal  my  friends  would  rush  in 
here  to  my  aid.  If  you  stab  me,  make  sure  the  knife  goes 
through  my  heart  with  the  first  stroke,  so  there  will  be 
little  chance  that  I'll  cry  out." 

"Den  you  have-a  friends  near,  ha?  I  t'ink  so  mebbe. 
Call-a  dem  in." 

"No,  thank  you.  They  will  remain  outside  till  they 
are  needed." 

"Ver*  well.  Now  we  undarestan'  each  odder.  Yo' 
have-a  some  more  to  say  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Say  him." 

"I  have  told  you  that  you  might  find  it  profitable  to 
serve  me." 

"I  hear  dat." 

"I  meant  it." 

"Wat  yo'  want  done?" 

"No  dirty  work — no  throat-cutting.  I  want  informa 
tion." 

"Ha!    Wat  yo'  want-a  know?" 

"I  want  to  know  who  the  Queen  of  Flowers  is." 

"Anymore?" 

"Yes;  I  want  to  know  where  she  is,  and  you  can  tell 
me." 

"Yo'  say  dat,  but  yo'  can't  prove  it.  I  don't  say  any- 
t'ing,  senor.  'Bo't  how  much  yo'  pay  fo'  that  info'mation, 
ha?" 

"Good  money,  and  a  fair  price." 

"Fair  price  notting;  I  want  good-a  price.  Undare- 
stand-a?" 

"I  understand." 

"Wat  yo'  gif  ?" 

"To  know  where  she  is?    A  hundred  dollars." 

Mazaro  smiled  scornfully. 

"Dat  notting.  Yo'  don'  talk  de  biz.  Yo'  don'  have-a 
de  mon'  enough." 


The  Queen  is  Found.  123 

"Wait,"  urged  Frank.  "I  am  a  Yankee,  from  the 
North,  and  I  will  make  a  trade  with  you." 

"All-a  right,  but  I  don't  admit  I  know  anyt'ing." 

Manuel  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  lazily  and  deftly  roll 
ing  a  cigarette,  which  he  lighted.  Frank  watched  this 
piece  of  business,  thinking  of  the  best  manner  of  ap 
proaching  the  fellow. 

And  then  something  happened  that  electrified  every  one 
within  the  cafe. 

Somewhere  above  there  came  the  sound  of  blows,  and 
a  crashing,  splintering  sound,  as  of  breaking  wood.  Then 
a  shriek  ran  through  the  building. 

"Help!  Help!  Save  me!" 

It  was  the  voice  of  a  female  in  great  terror  and  dis 
tress. 

Mazaro  ground  a  curse  through  his  white  teeth,  and 
leaped  to  his  feet,  but  Frank  was  on  his  feet  quite  as 
quickly. 

Smack!  Frank's  arm  had  shot  out,  and  his  hard  fist 
struck  the  Spaniard  under  the  ear,  sending  the  fellow  fly 
ing  through  the  air  and  up  against  the  wall  with  terrible 
force.  From  the  wall  Mazaro  dropped,  limp  and  groan 
ing,  to  the  floor. 

Like  a  flash,  the  nervy  youth  flung  the  table  against 
the  downcast  wretch's  companions,  making  them  reel. 

Then  Frank  leaped  toward  the  stairs,  up  which  he 
bounded  like  a  deer. 

"Where  are  you?"  he  cried.  "I  am  here  to  help  you! 
Call  again !" 

No  answer. 

Near  the  head  of  the  stairs  a  light  shone  out  through 
a  broken  panel  in  a  door,  and  on  this  door  Frank  knew 
the  blows  he  had  heard  must  have  fallen. 

Within  this  room  the  boy  fancied  he  could  hear  sounds 
i>f  a  desperate  struggle. 

Behind  him  the  desperadoes  were  rallying,  cursing 
hoarsely,  and  crying  to  each  other.  They  were  coming, 
and  the  lad  on  the  stairs  knew  they  would  come  armed  to 
the  teeth. 

All  the  chivalry  in  his  nature  was  aroused.    His  blood 


124  The  Queen  is  Found. 

was  leaping  and  tingling  in  his  veins,  and  he  felt  able  to 
cope  with  a  hundred  foes. 

Straight  toward  the  broken  door  he  leaped,  and  his 
hand  found  the  knob,  but  it  refused  to  yield  at  his  touch. 

"Fast !"  he  panted.     "Well,  I'll  try  this !" 

He  hurled  himself  against  the  door,  but  it  remained 
firm. 

There  were  feet  on  the  stairs;  the  desperadoes  were 
coming. 

At  that  moment  he  looked  into  the  room  through  the 
break  in  the  panel,  and  he  saw  a  girl  struggling  with  all 
her  strength  in  the  hands  of  a  man.  The  man  was  trying 
to  hold  a  hand  over  her  mouth  to  keep  her  from  crying  out 
again,  while  a  torrent  of  angry  Spanish  words  poured 
in  a  hissing  sound  from  his  bearded  lips. 

As  Frank  looked  the  girl  tore  the  fellow's  hand  from 
her  lips,  and  her  cry  for  help  again  rang  out. 

The  wretch  lifted  his  fist  to  strike  her  senseless,  but 
the  blow  did  not  fall. 

Frank  was  a  remarkably  good  shot,  and  his  revolver 
was  in  his  hand.  That  hand  was  flung  upward  to  the 
opening  in  the  panel,  and  he  fired  into  the  room. 

The  burst  of  smoke  kept  him  from  seeing  the  result  of 
the  shot,  but  he  heard  a  hoarse  roar  of  pain  from  the 
man,  and  he  knew  he  had  not  missed. 

He  had  fired  at  the  fellow's  wrist,  and  the  bullet  had 
shattered  it. 

But  now  the  ruffians  who  were  coming  furiously  up  the 
stairs  demanded  his  attention. 

"Halt!"  he  shouted.  "Stop  where  you  are,  or  I  shall 
open  fire  on  you  !" 

He  could  see  them,  and  he  saw  the  foremost  lift  his 
hand.  Then  there  was  a  burst  of  flame  before  Frank's 
eyes,  and  he  staggered  backward,  feeling  a  bullet  near  his 
cheek. 

Not  till  that  moment  did  he  realize  what  a  trap  he  was 
in,  and  how  desperate  was  his  situation. 

"It  is  a  fight  for  life !"  he  muttered,  as  he  lifted  his  re 
volver. 

The  smell  of  burned  powder  was  in  his  nostrils,  the  fire 
of  battle  gleamed  from  his  eyes. 


The  Queen  is  Found.  125 

The  weapon  in  Frank's  hand  spoke  again,  and  once 
more  he  found  his  game,  for  the  leading  ruffian,  having 
almost  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs,  flung  up  his  arms, 
with  a  gurgling  sound,  and  toppled  backward  upon  those 
who  were  following. 

Down  the  stairs  they  all  tumbled,  falling  in  a  heap  at 
the  bottom,  where  they  struggled,  squirmed,  and  shouted. 

"So  far  everything  is  very  serene!"  half  laughed  the 
daring  boy.     "This  has  turned  out  to  be  a  real  lively  ' 
night." 

Frank  was  a  lad  who  never  deliberately  sought  danger 
for  danger's  sake,  but  when  his  blood  was  aroused,  he 
entirely  forgot  to  be  afraid,  and  he  felt  a  wild  thrill  of 
joy  when  in  the  greatest  peril. 

For  the  time,  he  had  entirely  forgotten  the  existence 
of  Barney  Mulloy,  but  now  he  remembered  that  the  Irish 
lad  had  waited  outside  the  cottage  cafe. 

"He  has  heard  the  rumpus,"  said  Frank,  aloud.  "I 
wonder  where  Barney  can  be  ?" 

"Whist,  be  aisy,  me  lad !"  retorted  the  familiar  voice  of 
the  Irish  youth.  "Oi'm  wid  yez  to  th'  ind !" 

Barney  was  close  behind  Frank! 

"How  in  the  world  did  you  get  here?"  cried  our  hero, 
in  great  astonishment. 

"Oi  climbed  the  tray,  me  b'y." 

"The  tree  ?    What  tree  ?" 

"Th'  willey  tray  as  shtands  forninst  th'  corner  av  th' 
house,  Frankie." 

"But  that  does  not  explain  how  you  came  here  at  my  > 
side." 

"There  was  a  windy  open,  an'  Oi  shlipped  in  by  th' 
windy." 

"Well,  you're  a  dandy,  Barney!" 

"An'  ye're  a  birrud,  Frankie.  What  koind  av  a  muss 
hiv  ye  dhropped  into  now,  Oi'd  loike  ter  know  ?" 

"A  regular  ruction.  I  heard  a  girl  shout  for  help,  and 
I  knocked  over  two  or  three  chaps,  Mazaro  included,  on 
my  way  to  her  aid." 

"Where  is  she  now,  b'y?" 

"In  here,"  said  Frank,  pointing  through  the  broken 


126  The  Queen  is  Found. 

panel.  "She  is  the  missing  Queen  of  Flowers!  There 
she  is,  Barney !  See  here !" 

Then  Frank  obtained  a  fair  look  at  the  girl's  face,  stag 
gered,  clutched  Barney,  and  shouted : 

"'Look !  By  heavens !  It  is  not  strange  she  knew  me, 
for  we  both  know  her !  She  is  Inza  Burrage !" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

FIGHTING   LADS. 

While  attending  school  at  Fardale  Military  Academy, 
Frank  had  met  and  become  acquainted  with  a  charming 
girl  by  the  name  of  Inza  Burrage.  They  had  been  very 
friendly — more  than  friendly ;  in  a  boy  and  girl  way,  they 
were  lovers. 

After  leaving  Fardale  and  starting  to  travel,  Frank 
had  written  to  Inza,  and  she  had  answered.  For  a  time 
the  correspondence  had  continued,  but,  at  last,  Frank  had 
failed  to  receive  any  answers  to  his  letters.  He  wrote 
again  and  again,  but  never  a  line  came  from  Inza,  and 
he  finally  decided  she  had  grown  tired  of  him,  and  had 
taken  this  method  of  dropping  him. 

Frank  was  proud  and  sensitive,  and  he  resolved  to  for 
get  Inza.  This  was  not  easy,  but  he  thought  of  her  as 
little  as  possible,  and  never  spoke  of  her  to  any  one. 

And  now  he  had  met  her  in  this  remarkable  manner. 
Some  fellow  had  written  him  from  Fardale  that  Mr. 
Burrage  had  moved  from  the  place,  but  no  one  seemed 
to  know  whither  he  had  gone.  Frank  had  not  dreamed 
of  seeing  Inza  in  New  Orleans,  but  she  was  the  myste 
rious  Queen  of  Flowers,  and,  for  some  reason,  she  was 
in  trouble  and  peril. 

Although  dazed  by  his  astonishing  discovery,  the  boy 
quickly  recovered,  and  he  felt  that  he  could  battle  with  a 
hundred  ruffians  in  the  defense  of  the  girl  beyond  the 
broken  door. 

Barney  Mulloy  seemed  no  less  astonished  than  Frank. 

"Be  me  soul !  it  is  thot  lassie !"  he  cried. 

"Inza !  Inza !"  shouted  Frank,  through  the  broken  paneL 

She  heard  him. 

"Frank !  Frank  !     Save  me !" 

"I  will !" 

The  promise  was  given  with  the  utmost  confidence. 

At  that  moment,   however,   the    ruffian   whose  wrist 


128  Fighting  Lads. 

Frank  had  broken,  leaped  upon  the  girl  and  grasped  her 
with  his  uninjured  arm. 

"Carramba!"  he  snarled.  "You  save-a  her?  Bah! 
Fool !  You  never  git-a  out  with  whole  skin !" 

"Drop  her,  you  dog!"  cried  Frank,  pointing  his  revolver 
at  the  fellow — "drop  her,  or  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  your 
head,  instead  of  your  wrist !" 

"Bah !   Shoot !     You  kill-a  her !" 

He  held  the  struggling  girl  before  him  as  a  shield. 

Like  a  raging  lion,  Frank  tore  at  the  panel. 

The  man  with  the  girl  swiftly  moved  back  to  a  door 
at  the  farther  side  of  the  room.  This  door  he  had  already 
unfastened  and  flung  open. 

"Adios!"  he  cried,  derisively.  "Some  time  I  square 
wid  you  for  my  hand-a!  Adios!" 

"Th'  spalpanes  are  comin'  up  th'  shtairs  again, 
Frankiet"  cried  Barney,  in  the  ear  of  the  desperate  boy 
at  the  door. 

Frank  did  not  seem  to  hear;  he  was  striving  to  break 
the  stout  panel  so  that  he  could  force  his  way  through  the 
opening. 

"Frank !  Frank !  they're  coming  up  th'  shtairs !" 

"Let  them  come !" 

"They'll  make  mince  mate  av  us !" 

"I  must  follow  her !" 

"Well,  folly,  av  ye  want  to!"  shouted  the  Irish  lad. 
"Oi'm  goin'  to  shtop  th'  gang !" 

Crack !  The  panel  gave.  Crack !  splinter !  smash !  Out 
came  a  long  strip,  which  Frank  flung  upon  the  floor. 

Barney  caught  it  up  and  whirled  toward  the  stairs. 

The  desperadoes  were  coming  with  a  rush — they  were 
well  up  the  stairs.  In  another  moment  the  leading  ruf 
fian  would  have  reached  the  second  floor. 

"Get  back,  ye  gossoons !  Down,  ye  haythen  !  Take  thot, 
ye  bloody  pirates !" 

The  strip  of  heavy  wood  in  Barney's  hands  whirled 
through  the  air,  and  came  down  with  a  resounding  crack 
on  the  head  of  the  leader. 

The  fellows  had  not  learned  caution  by  the  fate,  of  the 
first  man  to  climb  the  stairs,  and  they  were  following  their 
second  leader  as  close  as  possible. 

Barney  had  a  strong  arm,  and  he  struck  the  fellow  with 


Fighting  Lads.  129 

all  his  power.  Well  it  was  for  the  ruffian  that  the  heavy 
wood  was  not  very  thick,  else  he  would  have  had  a  broken 
head. 

Back  he  toppled  upon  the  one  behind,  and  that  one 
made  a  vain  attempt  to  support  him.  The  dead  weight 
was  too  much,  and  the  second  fell,  again  sweeping  the 
whole  lot  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

"Hurro !"  shouted  the  Irish  boy,  in  wild  delight.  "This 
is  th'  koind  av  a  picnic  pwhat  Oi  admire !  Come  on,  ye 
nagurs !  It's  Barney  Mulloy  ye're  runnin'  up  against, 
an'  begobs !  he's  good  fer  th'  whole  crowd  av  yez !" 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  there  was  a  writhing,  wran 
gling,  snarling  mass  of  human  beings ;  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  was  a  young  Irishman  who  laughed  and  crowed 
and  flourished  the  cudgel  of  wood  in  his  hands. 

Barney,  feeling  his  blood  leaping  joyously  in  his  veins, 
felt  like  singing,  and  so  he  began  to  warble  a  "fighting 
song,"  over  and  over  inviting  his  enemies  to  come  on. 

In  the  meantime  Frank  had  made  an  opening  large 
enough  to  force  his  body  through. 

"Come  on,  Barney !"  he  cried,  attracting  the  other  boy's 
attention  by  a  sharp  blow. 

"Pwhere?" 

"In  here — somewhere." 

"Frankie,  ye're  muddled,  an'  Oi  nivver  saw  yez  so  be 
fore." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Nivver  a  bit  would  it  do  for  us  both  to  go  in  there,  fer 
th'  craythers  moight  hiv  us  in  a  thrap." 

"You're  right,  Barney.  I  will  go.  You  stay  here  and 
hold  the  ruffians  back.  Here — take  my  revolver.  You'll 
need  it." 

"G'wan  wid  yez!  Quit  yer  foolin',  Frankie!  Oi  hiv 
an  illigant  shillaly  here,  an'  thot's  all  Oi  nade,  unliss  ye 
have  two  revolvers." 

"This  is  the  only  one  I  have." 

"Thin  kape  it,  me  b'y,  fer  ye'll  nade  it  before  ye  save 
the  lass,  Oi  think." 

"I  think  you  may  be  right,  Barney.  Here  goes !  Hold 
them  back.  I'll  not  desert  you." 

"It's  nivver  a  bit  Oi  worry  about  thot,  Frankie. 
G'wan!" 


130  Fighting  Lads. 

Through  the  panel  Frank  forced  his  way.  As  soon  as 
he  was  within  the  room  he  ran  for  the  door  through 
which  the  ruffian  had  dragged  Inza. 

Frank  knew  that  the  fellow  might  be  waiting  just  be 
yond  the  door,  knife  in  hand,  and  he  sprang  through  with 
his  revolver  held  ready  for  instant  use. 

There  was  no  light  in  the  room,  but  the  light  from  the 
lamp  in  the  adjoining  room  shone  in  at  the  doorway. 

Frank  looked  around,  and,  to  his  dismay,  he  could  see 
no  one. 

"Are  they  gone?"  he  asked  himself.     "If  so,  whither?" 

It  was  not  long  before  he  was  convinced  that  the  room 
was  empty  of  any  living  being  save  himself. 

The  Spanish  ruffian  and  the  unfortunate  girl  had  dis 
appeared. 

"Oh,  confound  the  infernal  luck !"  raved  the  boy.  "He 
has  escaped  with  her !  But  I  did  my  best,  and  I  followed 
as  soon  as  possible." 

Then  he  remembered  that  he  had  promised  Inza  he 
would  save  her,  and  it  wrung  a  groan  from  his  lips. 

"Which  way  have  they  gone?"  he  cried,  beginning  to 
look  for  a  door  that  led  from  the  room. 

By  this  time  he  was  accustomed  to  the  dim  light,  and 
he  saw  a  door.  In  a  twinkling  he  had  tried  it,  but  found 
it  was  locked  or  bolted  on  the  farther  side. 

"The  fellow  had  little  time  and  no  hands  to  lock  a  door. 
He  may  not  have  gone  this  way.  He  must,  for  this  is 
the  only  door  to  the  room,  save  the  one  by  which  I  entered. 
He  went  out  this  way,  and  I  will  follow !" 

Retreating  to  the  farther  side  of  the  room,  Frank  made 
a  run  and  plunged  against  the  door. 

It  was  bolted  on  the  farther  side,  and  the  shock  snapped 
the  iron  bolt  as  if  it  had  been  a  pipe  stem. 

Bang!  Open  flew  the  door,  and  Frank  went  reeling 
through,  revolver  in  hand,  somewhat  dazed,  but  still  de 
termined  and  fierce  as  a  young  tiger. 

At  a  glance  he  saw  he  was  in  a  small  room,  with  two 
doors  standing  open — the  one  he  had  just  broken  down 
and  another.  Through  this  other  he  leaped,  and  found 
himself  in  a  long  passage,  at  the  farther  end  of  which 
Barney  Mulloy  was  still  guarding  the  head  of  tlfe  stairs, 
once  more  singing  the  wild  "fighting  song." 


Fighting  Lads.  131 

Not  a  trace  of  the  ruffian  or  the  kidnaped  girl  could 
Frank  see. 

"Gone!"  he  palpitated,  mystified  and  awe-stricken. 
"Gone — where  ?" 

That  was  a  question  he  could  not  answer  for  a  moment, 
and  then 

"The  window  in  that  room!  It  is  the  one  by  which 
Barney  entered !  It  must  be  the  one  by  which  the  wretch 
fled  with  Inza!" 

Back  into  the  room  he  had  just  left  he  leaped.  Two 
bounds  carried  him  to  the  window,  against  which  brushed 
the  branch  of  the  old  willow  tree. 

He  looked  out. 

"There  they  are !" 

The  exultant  words  came  in  a  panting  whisper  from 
his  lips  as  he  saw  some  dark  figures  on  the  ground  be 
neath  the  tree.  He  was  sure  he  saw  a  female  form  among 
them,  and  his  ears  did  not  deceive  him,  for  he  heard  at 
last  a  smothered  appeal  for  help. 

Then  two  other  forms  rushed  out  of  the  shadows  and 
fell  upon  the  men  beneath  the  tree,  striking  right  and  left ! 

There  was  a  short,  fierce  struggle,  a  woman's  shriek, 
the  death  groan  of  a  stricken  man,  a  pistol  shot,  and  scat 
tering  forms. 

Without  pausing  to  measure  the  distance  to  the  ground, 
Frank  sprang  over  the  window  sill  and  dropped. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

END     OF    THE    SEARCH. 

Like  a  cat,  Frank  alighted  on  his  feet,  and  he  was 
ready  for  anything  the  moment  he  struck  the  ground. 

There  was  no  longer  any  fighting  beneath  the  tree. 
The  struggling  mass  had  melted  to  two  dark  figures,  one 
of  which  was  stretched  on  the  ground,  while  the  other  bent 
over  it. 

Frank  sprang  forward  and  caught  the  kneeling  one  by 
the  shoulder. 

"What  has  become  of  her  ?"  he  demanded,  fiercely. 

The  man  looked  up,  astonished. 

It  was  Colonel  La  Salle  Vallier ! 

"Yo',  sah  ?"  he  exclaimed. 

"You?"  cried  Frank. 

Then  the  boy  recovered,  again  demanding : 

"What  has  become  of  Miss  Burrage?  She  was  here  a 
moment  ago." 

The  colonel  looked  around  in  a  dazed  way,  slowly  say 
ing: 

"Yes,  sah,  she  was  here,  fo'  Mistah  Raymon'  heard  her 
voice,  and  he  rushed  in  to  save  her." 

"Raymond?    Where  is  he?" 

"Here,  sah." 

The  colonel  motioned  toward  the  silent  form  on  the 
ground,  and  Frank  bent  forward  to  peer  into  the  white, 
ghastly  face. 

It  was,  indeed,  Rolf  Raymond. 

"Dead?"  fluttered  Frank. 

"Dead !"  replied  Colonel  Vallier. 

"He  was  killed  in  the  struggle?" 

"He  was  stabbed  at  the  ver'  start,  sah.  The  knife  must 
have  struck  his  heart." 

"Merciful  goodness !"  gasped  the  boy,  horrified.  "And 
how  came  he  here?" 

"We  were  searching  fo'  Manuel  Mazaro,  sah.  Mistah 
Raymon'  did  not  trus'  the  rascal,  and  he  believed  Mazaro 


End  of  the  Search.  133 

might  know  something  about  Miss  Barrage.  Mazaro  is 
ready  fo'  anything,  and  he  knew  big  money  would  be  of 
fered  fo'  the  recovery  of  the  young  lady,  so  he  must  have 
kidnaped  her.  We  knew  where  to  find  Mazaro,  though 
he  did  not  suppose  so,  and  we  came  here.  As  we  ap 
proached,  we  saw  some  figures  beneath  this  tree.  Then 
we  heard  a  feminine  cry  fo'  help,  and  we  rushed  in  here, 
sah.  That's  all,  except  that  Mistah  Raymon'  rushed  to  his 
death,  and  the  rascals  have  escaped." 

"They  have  escaped  with  the  girl — carried  her  away!" 

"But  they  will  not  dare  keep  her  now,  sah." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  they  are  known,  and  the  entire  police  of  the 
city  will  be  after  them." 

"What  will  they  do  with  her  ?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  do  not  think  they  will  harm  her, 
sah." 

"What  was  she  to  Rolf  Raymond  ?" 

"His  affianced  bride,  sah." 

"Well,  she  will  not  marry  him  now,"  said  Frank ;  "but  I 
am  truly  sorry  that  the  fellow  was  killed  in  such  a  das 
tardly  manner." 

"So  am  I,  sah,"  confessed  the  queer  colonel.  "He  has 
been  ver'  valuable  to  me.  It  will  be  a  long  time  before  I 
find  another  like  him." 

Frank  did  not  understand  that  remark  then,  but  he  did 
afterward,  when  he  was  told  that  Colonel  Vallier  was  a 
professional  card  sharp,  and  had  bled  Rolf  Raymond  for 
many  thousands  of  dollars.  This  explained  the  singular 
friendship  between  the  sharp  old  rascal  and  the  young 
man. 

Mere  than  that,  Frank  afterward  learned  that  Colonel 
Vallier  was  not  a  commissioned  officer,  had  never  been 
such,  but  had  assumed  the  title. 

In  many  ways  the  man  tried  to  imitate  the  Southern 
gentleman  of  the  old  school,  but,  as  he  was  not  a  gentle 
man  at  heart,  he  was  a  sad  failure. 

All  at  once  Frank  remembered  Barney,  and  that  he  had 
promised  to  stand  by  the  Irish  lad. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  cried.  "Barney  Mulloy  is  in  there 
with  that  gang  of  raging  wolves !" 


134  End  of  the  Search. 

"Niwer  a  bit  av  it,  Frankie,"  chirped  a  cheerful  voice. 
"Oi  am  here." 

Down  from  the  tree  swung  the  fighting  Irish  lad,  drop 
ping  beside  his  comrade. 

"Th'  craythers  didn't  feel  loike  comin'  up  th'  shtairs 
inny  more,"  Barney  explained.  "They  seemed  to  hiv 
enough  sport  fer  wan  avenin'.  Somebody  shouted  some- 
thin'  to  thim,  an'  away  they  wint  out  doors,  so  I  took  to 
lookin'  fer  yez,  me  b'y." 

"And  you  found  me  ?" 

"Oi  looked  out  av  th'  windy,  an'  hearrud  yer  voice. 
Thot's  whoy  Oi  came  down.  Phat  has  happened  out 
here,  Oi  dunno?" 

Frank  hastily  explained. 

"Well,  it's  the  avil  wan's  oun  luck !"  exclaimed  Barney. 
"But  av  we  shtay  here,  Frankie,  it's  pinched  we'll  be  by 
the  police  as  will  be  afther  getting  around  boy  and  boy. 
We'd  betther  take  a  sneak." 

"Inza " 

"She  ain't  here  inny  more,  me  lad,  an'  so  ye  moight  as 
well  go." 

"You  are  right.     Come  on." 

Swiftly  and  silently  they  slipped  away,  leaving  Colonel 
Vallier  with  the  dead  youth. 

Frank  was  feeling  disgusted  and  desperate,  and  he  ex 
pressed  himself  freely  as  they  made  their  way  along  the 
streets. 

"It  is  voile  luck,"  admitted  Barney;  "but  we  did  our 
bist,  an'  it's  a  jolly  good  foight  we  had.  Frankie,  we 
make  a  whole  tame,  wid  a  litthle  yaller  dog  under  th' 
waggin." 

"Oh,  I  can't  think  of  anything  but  Inza,  Inza,  Inza! 
She " 

"Frank !" 

Out  of  a  dark  shadow  timidly  came  a  female  figure. 

With  a  cry  of  joy,  Frank  sprang  forward,  and  clasped 
her  in  his  arms,  lifting  her  off  her  feet  and  covering  her 
face,  eyes  and  mouth  with  kisses,  while  he  cried: 

"Inza,  girl !  at  last !  at  last !  We  fought  like  fiends  to 
save  you,  and  we  thought  we  had  failed.  But  now " 

"You  did  your  best,  Frank,  but  that  dreadful  wretch 
dragged  me  to  the  window  and  dropped  me  into  the  arms 


End  of  the  Search.  135 

of  a  monster  who  was  waiting  below.  I  did  not  faint — 
I  would  not !  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  keep  my 
senses  and  try  to  escape.  The  man  jumped  after  me,  and 
then  a  signal  was  given  that  brought  the  others  from  the 
building.  They  were  going  to  wrap  something  about 
my  head  when  I  got  my  mouth  free  and  cried  out.  After 
that  I  scarcely  know  what  happened.  There  was  fighting, 
and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  face  of  Rolf  Raymond. 
How  he  came  there  I  do  not  know.  I  felt  myself  free, 
and  I  ran,  ran,  ran,  till  I  fell  here  from  exhaustion,  and 
here  I  lay  till  I  heard  your  voice.  I  knew  it,  and  I  re 
plied." 

"Frankie,  me  b'y!"  cried  Barney,  "it's  a  bit  ago  we 
were  ravin'  at  our  luck :  It's  givin'  thanks  we  should  be 
this  minute." 

"True,  Barney,  true!  It  is  all  right  at  last.  Inza  is 
safe,  Rolf  Raymond  is  dead,  and " 

A  cry  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  girl. 

"Rolf  Raymond  dead?"  she  exclaimed,  wildly.  "Are 
you  sure?" 

"Sure,"  replied  Frank,  coldly.  "You  will  not  marry 
him  now." 

"I  should  not  have  married  him  anyway." 

"But  you  were  affianced  to  him  ?" 

"By  my  father — yes.  My  father  and  Roderick  Ray 
mond,  who  is  a  cripple  and  has  not  many  more  years  to 
live,  were  schoolmates  and  friends  in  their  younger 
days.  Roderick  Raymond  has  made  a  vast  fortune,  and 
in  his  old  age  he  set  his  heart  upon  having  his  son  marry 
the  daughter  of  his  former  friend  and  partner.  It  seems 
that,  when  they  first  got  married,  father  and  Raymond  de 
clared,  in  case  the  child  of  one  was  a  boy,  and  that  of  the 
other  was  a  girl,  that  their  children  should  marry.  Rolf 
was  Mr.  Raymond's  only  son,  as  I  am  an  only  daughter. 
Believing  himself  ready  to  die,  Roderick  Raymond  sent 
to  my  father  and  reminded  him  of  their  agreement.  As 
you  know,  father  is  not  very  wealthy,  and  he  is  now  an 
invalid.  His  mind  is  not  strong,  and  he  became  con 
vinced  that  it  was  his  duty  to  see  that  I  married  Rolf 
Raymond.  He  set  his  mind  on  it,  and  all  my  pleadings 
were  in  vain.  He  brought  me  here  to  the  South,  and  I 
saw  Rolf.  I  disliked  him  violently  the  moment  my  eyes 


136 


End  of  the  Search. 


rested  on  him,  but  he  seemed  to  fall  madly  in  love  with 
me.  He  was  fiercely  jealous  of  me,  and  watched  me  as 
a  dog  watches  its  mistress.  I  could  not  escape  him,  and  I 
was  becoming  entangled  deeper  and  deeper  when  you 
appeared.  I  knew  you,  and  I  was  determined  to  see  you 
again — to  ask  you  to  save  me.  I  took  part  in  the  parade 
to-night,  and  went  to  the  ballroom.  Rolf  followed  me 
about  so  that  I  became  disgusted  and  slipped  from  the 
room,  intending  to  return  home  alone.  Barely  had  I 
left  the  room  when  a  fellow  whispered  in  my  ear  that  he 
had  been  sent  there  by  you — that  I  was  to  go  with  him, 
and  he  would  take  me  to  you.  I  entered  a  closed  car 
riage,  and  I  was  brought  to  the  place  where  you  found  me 
a  captive  in  the  hands  of  those  ruffians." 

Frank  had  listened  with  eager  interest  to  this  explana 
tion,  and  it  made  everything  clear. 

"It  was  ordained  by  fate  that  we  should  find  you 
there,"  he  declared.  "It  was  known  the  Queen  of  Flow 
ers  had  disappeared,  and  we  were  searching  for  you. 
Something  led  us  straight  to  that  place.  Rolf  Raymond 
came  there,  also,  and  he  came  to  his  death.  But,  Inza,  ex 
plain  one  thing — why  didn't  you  answer  my  letters?" 

"I  answered  every  one  I  received.  You  stopped  writ- 
ing." 

"I  did  not;  but  I  received  no  answers." 

"Then,"  cried  the  girl,  "your  letters  must  have  been 
intercepted.  You  were  constantly  changing  about.  I  did 
not  know  your  address,  so  I  could  not  ask  for  an  expla 
nation." 

"Well,  it  has  come  out  right  at  last.  We'll  find  a  car 
riage  and  take  you  home.  To-morrow  I  will  see  you." 

They  reached  Canal  Street,  and  found  a  carriage. 

Inza's  invalid  father  was  astounded  when  he  saw  Frank 
and  Barney  Mulloy  appear  with  his  daughtetr,  and  he  was 
more  than  ever  astounded  and  agitated  when  he  knew 
what  had  happened. 

But  Inza  was  safe,  and  Rolf  Raymond  was  dead. 

It  was  a  lively  tale  the  boys  related  to  Professor 
Scotch  that  night.  The  little  man  fairly  gasped  for 
breath  as  he  listened. 

"Well !  well !  well !"  was  all  he  could  say. 

In  the  morning  the  police  had  taken  hold  of  the  affair, 


End  of  the  Search.  137 

and  they  were  hot  after  the  fellows  who  had  killed  Rolf 
Raymond.  Frank  and  Barney  were  called  on  to  tell  their 
story,  and  were  placed  under  surveillance. 

But  the  cottage  cafe  was  deserted,  and  the  Spanish  ras 
cals  were  not  captured.  They  disappeared  from  New 
Orleans,  and,  to  this  day,  the  law  has  never  avenged  the 
death  of  Roderick  Raymond's  only  son. 

The  murder  of  his  boy  was  too  much  for  Raymond  to 
endure,  and  he  died  of  a  broken  heart  on  the  day  of  the 
son's  funeral.  Knowing  he  was  dying,  he  had  a  new 
will  swiftly  made,  and  all  his  wealth  was  left  to  his  old' 
friend  Burrage. 

Frank  and  Barney  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  rest  of  their 
stay  in  New  Orleans.  In  the  open  carriage  with  them, 
at  Frank's  side,  rode  the  "Queen  of  Flowers"  as  they 
went  sight-seeing. 

In  the  throng  of  spectators,  with  two  detectives  near  at 
hand,  they  saw  Colonel  La  Salle  Vallier.  He  lifted  his 
hat  and  bowed  with  the  utmost  courtesy. 

"The  auld  chap  is  something  of  a  daisy,  after  all, 
Frankie,"  laughed  Barney.  "Oi  kinder  admire  th'  spal- 
pane." 

"Ha,  hum!"  coughed  Professor  Scotch,  at  Barney's 
side.  "He  is  a  great  duelist — a  great  duelist,  but  he 
quailed  before  my  terrible  eye — he  was  forced  to  apolo 
gize.  Hum,  ha!" 

Frank  leaned  toward  Inza. 

"If  anything  happens  when  we  are  again  separated 
that  you  should  fail  to  receive  my  letters,  you  will  not 
doubt  me,  will  you?"  he  asked,  in  a  whisper. 

And  she  softly  replied: 

"No,  Frank,  but " 

"But  what?" 

"You — you  must  not  forget  Elsie  Bellwood." 

"I  haven't  heard  from  her  in  a  long  time,"  said  Frank. 
And  there  the  talk  ended. 

But  Frank  was  to  hear  from  his  other  girl  friend 
soon  and  in  a  most  unexpected  manner. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE   MYSTERIOUS   CANOE. 

From  New  Orleans  Frank,  Barney  and  the  professor 
journeyed  to  Florida. 

Frank  was  anxious  to  see  the  Everglades  and  do  some 
hunting. 

Our  hero  was  particularly  anxious  to  shoot  a  golden 
heron,  of  which  he  had  heard  not  a  little. 

One  day  a  start  was  made  in  a  canoe  from  a  small  set 
tlement  on  the  edge  of  the  great  Dismal  Swamp,  and  on 
went  our  three  friends  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  wilds. 

At  last  the  professor  grew  tired  of  the  sameness  of  the 
journey. 

"How  much  further  into  this  wild  swamp  do  you  in 
tend  to  go,  Frank  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  am  going  till  I  get  a  shot  at  a  golden  heron." 

"Nonsense!     There  is  no  golden  heron." 

"You  think  so?" 

"I  know  it.  The  golden  heron  is  a  myth.  White  hun 
ters  have  searched  the  remote  fastnesses  of  the  Florida 
swamps  for  a  golden  heron,  but  no  such  bird  have  they 
ever  found.  The  Indians  are  the  only  ones  to  see  golden 
herons." 

"If  the  Indians  can  see  them,  white  men  may  find  them. 
I  shall  not  be  satisfied  till  I  have  shot  one." 

"Then  you'll  never  be  satisfied." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,  professor.  I  am  some 
thing  of  an  Indian  myself.  You  know  the  Seminoles  are 
honest  and  peaceable,  and " 

"All  Indians  are  liars.  I  would  not  take  the  word  of  a 
Seminole  under  any  condition.  Come,  Frank,  don't  be 
foolish ;  let's  turn  round  and  go  back.  We  may  get  bewil 
dered  on  these  winding  waterways  which  twist  here  and 
there  through  swamps  of  cypress  and  rushes.  We  were 
foolish  to  come  without  a  guide,  but " 

"We  could  not  obtain  one  until  to-morrow,  and  I  wished 
to  come  to-day." 


The  Mysterious  Canoe.  139 

"You  may  be  sorry  you  did  not  wait." 

"Now,  you  are  getting  scared,  professor,"  laughed 
Frank,  lifting  his  paddle  from  the  water  and  laying  it 
across  the  bow  of  the  canoe.  "I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do." 

"All  right." 

"We'll  leave  it  to  Barney,  who  has  not  had  a  word  to  say 
on  the  matter.  If  he  says  go  back,  we'll  go  back." 

Professor  Scotch  hesitated,  scratched  his  ringers  into 
his  fiery  beard,  and  then  said : 

"Well,  I'll  have  to  do  as  you  boys  say,  anyway,  so  we'll 
leave  it  to  Barney." 

"All  right,"  laughed  Frank,  once  more.  "What  do  you 
say,  Barney,  my  boy?" 

Barney  Mulloy  was  in  the  stern  of  the  canoe  that  had 
been  creeping  along  one  of  the  sluggish  water  courses 
that  led  through  the  cypress  swamp  and  into  the  heart  of 
the  Everglades. 

"Well,  gintlemin,"  he  said,  "Oi've  been  so  busy  thrying 
to  kape  thrack  av  th'  twists  an'  turruns  we  have  been 
makin'  thot  Oi  didn't  moind  mutch  pwhat  ye  wur  soaying. 
It  wur  something  about  turning  back.  Plaze  repate  it 
again." 

So  the  matter  was  laid  before  him,  and,  when  he  had 
heard  what  Frank  and  the  professor  had  to  say,  he  de 
clared  : 

"Fer  mesilf  it's  nivver  a  bit  do  Oi  care  where  we  go  ur 
pwhat  we  do,  but.  as  long  as  we  hiv  come  so  fur,  an' 
Frankie  wants  to  go  furder,  Oi'd  soay  go  on  till  he  is 
sick  av  it  an'  reddy  to  turn  back." 

"There,  professor!"  cried  Frank;  "that  settles  it!" 

"As  I  knew  it  would  be  settled,"  growled  Professor 
Scotch,  sulkily.  "You  boys  combine  against  me  every 
time.  Well,  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  submit." 

So  the  trio  pushed  on  still  farther  into  the  great  Dismal 
Swamp,  a  weird  section  of  strange  vegetable  and  animal 
life,  where  great  black  trees  stood  silent  and  grim,  with 
Spanish  moss  dangling  from  their  branches,  bright-plu- 
maged  birds  flashed  across  the  opens,  ugly  snakes  glided 
sinuously  over  the  boggy  land,  and  sleepy  alligators  slid 
from  muddy  banks  and  disappeared  beneath  the  surface 
of  the  dead  water. 

The  professor  continued  to  grumble. 


140  The  Mysterious  Canoe. 

"If  we  should  come  upon  one  of  these  wonderful  golden 
herons,  Frank  could  not  come  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  it  with  that  old  bow  and  arrow,"  he  said. 

"Couldn't  I?"  retorted  Frank.  "Perhaps  not,  but  I 
could  make  a  bluff  at  it." 

"I  don't  see  why  you  won't  use  a  gun." 

"Well,  there  are  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  in  order 
to  be  sure  of  killing  a  heron  with  a  shotgun  I'd  have  to 
use  fairly  large  shot,  and  that  might  injure  the  bird 
badly ;  in  the  second  place,  there  might  be  two,  and  I'd  not 
be  able  to  bag  more  than  one  of  them  with  a  gun,  as  the 
report  would  scare  the  other.  Then  there  is  the  pos 
sibility  that  I  would  miss  with  the  first  shot,  and  the  heron 
would  escape  entirely.  If  I  miss  with  an  arrow,  it  is 
not  likely  the  bird  will  be  alarmed  and  take  to  flight,  so 
I'll  have  another  chance  at  it.  Oh,  there  are  some  advan 
tages  in  using  the  primitive  bow  and  arrow." 

"Bosh !"  exploded  Scotch.  "You  have  a  way  of  always 
making  out  a  good  case  for  yourself.  You  won't  be 
beaten." 

"Begobs!  he  is  a  hard  b'y  to  bate,  profissor,"  grinned 
Barney.  "Av  he  wurn't,  it's  dead  he'd  been  long  ago." 

"That's  right,  that's  right,"  agreed  Scotch,  who  ad 
mired  Frank  more  than  he  wished  to  acknowledge.  "He's 
lucky." 

"It's  not  all  luck,  profissor,"  assured  the  Irish  boy.  "In 
minny  cases  it's  pure  nerve  thot  pulls  him  through." 

"Well,  there's  a  great  deal  of  luck  in  it — of  course  there 
is." 

"Oh,  humor  the  professor,  Barney,"  laughed  Frank. 
"Perhaps  he'll  become  better  natured  if  you  do." 

They  now  came  to  a  region  of  wild  cypress  woods, 
where  the  treetops  were  literally  packed  with  old  nests, 
made  in  the  peculiar  heron  style.  They  were  constructed 
of  huge  bristling  piles  of  cross-laid  sticks,  not  unlike 
brush  heaps  of  a  Western  clearing. 

Here  for  years,  almost  ages,  different  species  of  herons 
had  built  their  nests  in  perfect  safety. 

As  the  canoe  slowly  and  silently  glided  toward  the 
"rookeries,"  white  and  blue  herons  were  seen  to  rise  from 
the  reed-grass  and  fly  across  the  opens  in  a  stately  manner, 


The  Mysterious  Canoe.  141 

with  their  long  necks  folded  against  their  breasts,  and 
their  legs  projecting  stiffly  behind  them. 

"Pwoy  don't  yez  be  satisfoied  wid  a  few  av  th*  whoite 
wans,  Frankie?"  asked  Barney,  softly.  "Shure,  they're 
handsome  enough." 

"They're  handsome,"  admitted  Frank;  "but  a  golden 
heron  is  worth  a  large  sum  as  a  curiosity,  and  I  mean  to 
have  one." 

"All  roight,  me  b'y;  have  yer  own  way,  lad." 

"He'll  do  that,  anyhow,"  mumbled  Professor  Scotch, 
gruffly. 

They  could  now  see  long,  soldier-like  lines  of  herons 
stretched  out  along  the  reedy  swales,  standing  still  and 
solemn,  like  pickets  on  duty. 

They  were  not  particularly  wary  or  wild,  for  they  had 
not  been  hunted  very  much  in  the  wild  region  which  they 
inhabited. 

Little  green  herons  were  plentiful,  and  they  kept  flying 
up  before  the  canoe  constantly,  scaring  the  others,  till 
Frank  grew  very  impatient,  declaring: 

"Those  little  rascals  will  scare  away  a  golden  heron, 
if  we  are  fortunate  enough  to  come  upon  one.  Confound 
them!" 

"Let  me  shoot  a  few  of  th'  varmints,"  urged  Barney, 
reaching  for  one  of  the  guns  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe. 

"Not  much  !"  returned  Frank,  quickly.  "Think  what  the 
report  of  a  gun  would  do  here.  Keep  still,  Barney." 

"All  roight !"  muttered  the  Irish  lad,  reluctantly  relin 
quishing  his  hold  on  the  gun.  "Av  ye  soay  kape  still, 
kape  still  it  is." 

Frank  instructed  the  professor  to  take  in  his  paddle, 
and  Barney  was  directed  to  hold  the  canoe  close  to  the 
edge  of  the  rushes.  In  this  manner,  with  Frank  kneeling 
in  the  prow,  an  arrow  ready  notched  on  the  string,  he 
could  shoot  with  very  little  delay. 

Beyond  the  heron  rookery  the  waterway  wound  into  the 
depths  of  a  dark,  forbidding  region,  where  the  Spanish 
moss  hung  thick,  and  the  great  trees  leaned  over  the 
water. 

They  had  glided  past  one  side  of  the  rookery  and  were 
near  this  dark  opening  when  an  exclamation  of  surprise 
came  from  Frank  Merriwell's  lips. 


142  The  Mysterious  Canoe. 

'That  is  it,  me  b'y?"  asked  Barney,  quickly. 

"A  canoe." 

'There  ?" 

"See  it  yonder." 

"Yes,  Oi  see  it  now.    It's  white." 

"There  must  be  other  hunters  near  at  hand,"  said  the 
professor. 

"The  canoe  is  not  drawn  up  to  the  bank,"  said  Frank, 
in  a  puzzled  way.  "It  seems  to  be  floating  at  some  dis 
tance  from  the  shore." 

"Perhaps  it  is  moored  out  there." 

"Why  should  it  be  moored  in  such  a  place  ?  There  are 
no  tides  here,  and  alligators  are  not  liable  to  steal  canoes." 

"Do  ye  see  inny  soign  av  a  camp,  Frankie  ?" 

"Not  a  sign  of  a  camp  or  a  human  being.  This  is 
rather  strange." 

A  strange  feeling  of  wonder  that  swiftly  changed  to  awe 
was  creeping  over  them.  The  canoe  was  snowy  white, 
and  lay  perfectly  motionless  on  the  still  surface  of  the 
water.  It  was  in  the  dark  shadow  beneath  the  trees. 

"Perhaps  the  owner  of  the  canoe  is  lying  in  the  bot 
tom,"  suggested  the  professor. 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  said  Frank,  putting  down  the 
bow  and  arrow  and  taking  up  a  paddle.  "Head  straight 
for  her,  Barney." 

With  the  very  first  stroke  in  that  direction  a  most  as 
tonishing  thing  happened. 

The  white  canoe  seemed  to  swing  slightly  about,  and 
then,  with  no  visible  occupant  and  no  apparent  motive 
power,  it  glided  smoothly  and  gently  toward  the  dark 
depths  of  the  black  forest ! 

"She's  floating  away  from  us!"  cried  the  professor. 
"There  must  be  a  strong  current  there !" 

"Nivver  a  bit  is  she  floating!"  gasped  Barney  Mulloy. 
"Will  ye  look  at  her  go!  Begobs!  Oi  fale  me  hair 
shtandin'  on  me  head !" 

"She  is  not  floating!"  Frank  said.  "See — she  gains 
speed !  Look  at  the  ripple  that  spreads  from  her  prow !" 

"But — but,"  spluttered  Professor  Scotch,  "what  is  mak 
ing  her  move — what  is  propelling  her  ?" 

"That's  a  mystery !"  came  from  Frank,  "but  it's  a 
mystery  I  mean  to  solve !  Get  out  your  paddle,  profes- 


The  Mysterious  Canoe.  145 

sor.    Keep  straight  after  that  canoe,  Barney.    We'll  run 
her  down  and  look  her  over." 

Then  a  strange  race  began,  canoe  against  canoe,  the 
one  in  the  lead  apparently  empty,  the  one  pursuing  con 
taining  three  persons  who  were  using  all  their  strength 
and  skill  to  overtake  the  empty  craft. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

STILL  MORE  MYSTERIOUS. 

"PuH!"  panted  Frank. 

"Pull!"  mumbled  the  professor. 

"Pull!"  snorted  Barney,  in  disgust,  great  drops  of 
perspiration  rolling  down  his  face.  "As  if  we  wurn't 
pullin' !" 

"We're  not  gaining." 

"The  white  canoe  keeps  just  so  far  ahead." 

"Begobs !  it's  not  our  fault  at  all,  at  all." 

Indeed,  no  matter  how  hard  they  worked,  no  matter 
how  fast  they  made  the  canoe  fly  through  the  water,  they 
could  not  gain  on  the  mysterious  white  canoe.  The  dis 
tance  between  the  two  canoes  seemed  to  remain  just  the 
same,  and  the  one  in  advance  slipped  through  the  water 
without  a  sound,  following  the  winding  water  course  be 
neath  the  dark  trees  and  going  deeper  and  deeper  into 
the  heart  of  the  swamp. 

Other  water  courses  were  passed,  running  away  into 
unknown  and  unexplorable  wilds.  It  grew  darker  and 
darker,  and  the  feeling  of  awe  and  fear  fell  more  heavily 
upon  them. 

At  last,  exhausted  and  discouraged,  the  professor 
stopped  paddling,  crying  to  his  companions,  in  a  husky 
voice : 

"Stop,  boys,  stop!  There  is  something  supernatural 
about  that  fiendish  boat !  It  is  luring  us  to  some  fright 
ful  fate!" 

"Nonsense,  professor !"  retorted  Frank.  "You  are  not 
superstitious — you  have  said  so  at  least  a  score  of  times." 

"That's  all  right,"  returned  Scotch,  shaking  his  head. 
"I  do  not  take  any  stock  in  rappings,  table  tippings,  and 
that  kind  of  stuff,  but  I  will  confess  this  is  too  much 
for  me." 

"Begobs!  Oi  don't  wonder  at  thot,"  gurgled  Barney 
Mulloy,  wiping  the  great  drops  of  perspiration  from  his 
forehead.  "It's  the  divvil's  own  canoe,  thot  is  sure!" 


Still  More  Mysterious.  145 

"Oh,  it's  simple  enough!"  declared  Frank,  nettled. 

"Thin   ixplain   it   fer  me,   me  b'y — ixplain  it." 

"Oh,  I  won't  say  that  I  can  explain  it,  for  I  do  not 
pretend  to  understand  it ;  but  I'll  wager  that  the  mystery 
would  be  readily  solved  if  we  could  overtake  and  exam 
ine  that  canoe." 

"Mebbe  so;  but  I  think  it  nades  a  stameboat  to  over 
take  it." 

Professor  Scotch  shook  his  head  in  a  most  solemn 
manner. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  "in  all  my  career  I  have  never  seen 
anything  like  this,  and  I  shall  never  dare  tell  this  ad 
venture,  for  people  in  general  would  not  believe  it — 
they'd  think  I  was  lying." 

"Without  doubt,"  admitted  Frank.  "And,  still  I  will 
wager  that  the  explanation  of  the  whole  matter  would 
seem  very  simple  if  we  could  overtake  that  canoe  and 
examine  it." 

"Perhaps  so." 

"You  speak  as  if  you  doubted  it." 

"Possibly  I  do." 

"I  am  surprised  at  you,  professor — I  am  more  than 
surprised." 

"I  can't  help  it  if  you  are,  my  boy." 

"I  am  afraid  your  mind  is  beginning  to  weaken." 

"Soay,  Frankie,"  broke  in  Barney.  "Oi  loike  fun  as 
well  as  th'  nixt  wan,  but,  be  jabbers!  it's  niwer  a  bit 
av  it  can  Oi  see  in  this !" 

"See  that  infernal  canoe?"  cried  the  professor,  point 
ing  at  the  mystic  craft.  "It  has  stopped  out  there  in 
the  shadows." 

"And  seems  to  be  waiting  for  us  to  pursue  again." 

"That's  what  it's  doing." 

"I'm  ready !"  exclaimed  Frank. 

"I  am  not,"  decisively  declared  Professor  Scotch. 

"Nayther  am  Oi !"  almost  shouted  the  Irish  youth.  "It's 
enough  av  this  koind  av  business  Oi've  been  in !" 

"We'll  turn  about,"  said  Scotch,  grimly.  "That  canoe 
will  iure  us  into  this  dismal  swamp  so  far  that  we'll 
never  find  our  way  out.  We'll  turn  about  at  once." 

Frank  laughed. 

"All  right,"  he  said.     "I  suppose  I'll  have  to  give  up, 


146  Still  More  Mysterious. 

but  I  do  dislike  to  leave  without  solving  the  mystery  of 
that  canoe." 

"It  may  be  thot  we're  so  far  in  thot  we  can't  foind  our 
way  out  at  all,  at  all,"  said  the  Irish  lad. 

"I'm  afraid  we'll  not  be  able  to  get  out  before  night 
fall,"  confessed  the  professor.  "I  have  no  fancy  for 
spending  a  night  in  this  swamp." 

Barney  promptly  expressed  his  dislike  for  such  an  ad 
venture,  but  Frank  was  silent. 

The  canoe  turned  about,  and  they  set  about  the  task 
of  retracing  the  water  courses  by  which  they  had  come 
far  into  the  swamp. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  came  to  a  place  where 
the  courses  divided.  Frank  was  for  following  one,  while 
both  Barney  and  the  professor  insisted  that  the  other 
was  the  right  way. 

Finally,  Frank  gave  in  to  them,  although  it  was  against 
his  better  judgment,  and  he  felt  that  he  should  not  sub 
mit. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  before,  as  they  were  pass 
ing  round  a  bend,  a  cry  of  astonishment  fell  from  Bar 
ney's  lips. 

"Howly  shmoke !"  he  shouted.    "Thot  bates  th'  band !" 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Frank  and  the  professor, 
together. 

"Thot  whoite  canoe!" 

"What  of  it?" 

"Look  back!    Th'  thing  is  afther  follying  av  us!" 

They  looked  back,  and,  sure  enough,  there  was  the 
mysterious  canoe,  gliding  after  them,  like  a  most  un 
canny  thing! 

"Well,  I  like  that!"  said  Frank,  in  a  tone  that  plainly 
indicated  he  did  not  like  it.  "This  is  very  pleasant!" 

"Pull,  pull !"  throbbed  the  professor,  splashing  his 
paddle  into  the  water  and  very  nearly  upsetting  them 
all.  "Don't  let  the  thing  overtake  us  !  Pull,  pull !" 

"Oi  think  it's  a  foine  plan  to  be  gettin'  out  av  this," 
muttered  Barney,  in  an  agitated  tone  of  voice. 

"Steady,  there,  professor,"  called  Frank,  sharply. 
"What  do  you  want  to  do — drown  us  all  ?  Keep  cool." 

"It's  coming!"  fluttered  the  little  man,  wildly. 


Still  More  Mysterious.  147 

"Let  it  come.  As  long  as  we  could  not  overtake  it, 
let  it  overtake  us.  That  is  a  very  good  scheme." 

"Th'  skame  won't  worruck,  me  b'y.  Th'  ould  thing's 
shtopped." 

It  was  true;  the  white  canoe  had  stopped,  and  was 
lying  calmly  on  the  inky  surface  of  the  shadowed  water. 

"Well,  I  can't  say  that  I  like  this,"  said  Frank. 

"And  I  scarcely  think  I  like  it  more  than  you  do," 
came  from  the  professor. 

"An'  th'  both  av  yez  loike  it  as  well  as  mesilf,"  put 
in  the  Irish  youth. 

"What  are  we  to  do?" 

"Go  on." 

Go  on  they  did,  but  the  white  canoe  still  followed, 
keeping  at  a  distance. 

"I  can't  stand  this,"  declared  Frank,  as  he  picked  up 
a  rifle  from  the  bottom  of  the  canoe.  "I  wonder  how 
lead  will  work  on  her?" 

"Pwhat  are  yez  goin'  to  do,  me  b'y?"  cried  Barney, 
in  alarm. 

"Shoot  a  few  holes  in  that  craft,"  was  the  deliberate 
answer.  "Swing  to  the  left,  so  that  I  may  have  a  good 
chance." 

"Don't  shoot!"  palpitated  the  professor. 

"Don't  shoot!"  gurgled  Barney. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  demanded  Frank, 
sharply.  "You  both  appear  like  frightened  children !" 

"No  telling  what'll  come  of  it  if  you  shoot." 

"I'll  simply  put  a  few  holes  through  that  canoe." 

"It  may  be  the  destruction  of  us !" 

"It  may  sind  us  all  to  glory  by  th'  farrust  express." 

"Nonsense !  Don't  be  foolish !  Swing  her  to  the  left, 
I  say.  I  am  going  to  shoot,  and  that  settles  it." 

It  was  useless  for  them  to  urge  him  not  to  fire;  he 
was  determined,  and  nothing  they  could  say  would 
change  his  mind.  The  canoe  drifted  round  to  the  left, 
and  the  rifle  rose  to  Frank's  shoulder. 

Spang!  The  clear  report  rang  out  and  echoed 
through  the  cypress  forest. 

The  bullet  tore  through  the  white  canoe,  and  the 
weird  craft  seemed  to  give  a  leap,  like  a  wounded  crea 
ture. 


148  Still  More  Mysterious. 

"Hit  it!"  cried  Frank,  triumphantly. 

"Hit  it!"  echoed  the  professor,  quivering  with  terror. 

"Hit  it!"  groaned  Barney  Mulloy,  his  face  white  and 
his  eyes  staring.  "May  all  the  saints  defind  us !" 

"Look!"  shouted  Frank.  "She  is  turning  about — she 
is  going  to  leave  us !  But  I'll  put  another  bullet  through 
her!" 

Up  the  rifle  came,  but,  just  as  he  pressed  the  trigger, 
Professor  Scotch  pushed  the  weapon  to  one  side,  so  the 
bullet  did  not  pass  within  twenty  feet  of  the  white  canoe. 

"Why  did  you  do  that?"  demanded  Frank,  angrily. 

"I  couldn't  see  you  shoot  into  that  canoe  again,"  fal 
tered  the  agitated  professor.  "It  was  too  much — too 
much!" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

Professor  Scotch  shook  his  head.  He  could  not  ex 
plain,  and  he  was  ashamed  of  his  agitation  and  fears. 

"Well,  you  fellows  lay  over  anything  I  ever  went 
up  against!"  said  Frank,  in  disgust.  "I  didn't  suppose 
you  could  be  so  thoroughly  childish." 

"All  right,  Frank,"  came  humbly  from  the  professor's 
lips.  "I  can't  help  it,  and  I  haven't  a  word  to  say." 

"But  I  will  take  one  more  shot  at  that  canoe!"  vowed 
Frank. 

"Not  this  day,"  chuckled  Barney  Mulloy.  "She's 
gone!" 

It  was  true.  The  mysterious  canoe  had  vanished  from 
view  while  they  were  speaking. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

IN    THE    EVERGLADES. 

"Gone!" 

"Disappeared !" 

The  exclamations  came  from  Frank  and  Professor 
Scotch. 

Barney's  chuckle  changed  to  a  shiver,  and  his  teeth 
chattered. 

"Th'  Quid  B'y's  in  it !"  he  chatteringly  declared. 

"The  Old  Boy  must  have  been  in  that  canoe,"  agreed 
the  professor. 

Frank  was  puzzled  and  disappointed.  He  still  re 
fused  to  believe  there  was  anything  supernatural  about 
the  mysterious,  white  canoe,  but  he  was  forced  to  ac 
knowledge  to  himself  that  the  craft  had  done  most  amaz 
ing  things. 

"It  simply  slipped  into  some  branch  waterway  while 
we  were  not  looking,"  ha  said,  speaking  calmly,  as  if  it 
were  the  most  commonplace  thing  imaginable. 

"Well,  it's  gone,"  said  Scotch,  as  if  greatly  relieved. 
"Now,  let's  get  out  of  this  in  a  great  hurry." 

"I  am  for  going  back  to  see  what  has  become  of  the 
white  canoe,"  said  Frank,  with  deliberate  intent  to  make 
his  companions  squirm. 

Barney  and  the  professor  raised  a  perfect  howl  of 
protest. 

"Never!"  shouted  Scotch,  nearly  upsetting  the  boat  in 
his  excitement,  and  wildly  flourishing  his  arms  in  the 
air. 

"Nivver!"  squealed  the  Irish  lad.  "Oi'll  joomp  over 
board  an'  swim  out  av  this  before  Oi'll  go  back !" 

Frank  laughed. 

"You  are  most  amusing,"  he  declared.  "I  suppose  I'll 
have  to  give  in  to  you,  as  you  are  two  to  one." 

"Come  on,"  fluttered  the  professor;  "let's  be  moving.'* 

So  Frank  put  down  the  rifle,  and  picked  up  his  paddle, 


15O  In  the  Everglades. 

and  they  resumed  their  effort  to  get  out  of  the  swamp 
before  nightfall. 

But  the  afternoon  was  well  advanced,  and  night  was 
much  nearer  than  they  had  thought,  as  they  were  soon 
to  discover. 

At  last,  Barney  cried: 

"Oi  see  loight  enough  ahead!  We  must  be  near  out 
av  th'  woods." 

Frank  said  nothing.  For  a  long  time  he  had  been 
certain  they  were  on  the  wrong  course,  but  he  hoped  it 
would  bring  them  out  somewhere.  He  had  noted  the 
light  that  indicated  they  were  soon  to  reach  the  termina 
tion  of  the  cypress  swamp,  but  he  held  his  enthusiasm 
in  check  till  he  could  be  sure  they  had  come  out  some 
where  near  where  they  had  entered  the  dismal  region. 

Professor    Scotch    grew   enthusiastic   immediately. 

"Ha!"  he  cried,  punching  Frank  in  the  back.  "What 
do  you  think  now,  young  man?  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  we  don't  know  our  business?  What  if  we  had 
accepted  your  way  of  getting  out  of  the  swamp !  We'd 
been  in  there  now,  sir." 

"Don't  crow  till  you're  out  of  the  woods,"  advised 
Frank. 

"Begobs!  Oi  belave  he'd  be  plazed  av  we  didn't  get 
out  at  all,  at  all !"  exclaimed  Barney,  somewhat  touched. 

In  a  short  time  they  came  to  the  termination  of  the 
cypress  woods,  but,  to  the  surprise  of  Barney  and  the 
professor,  the  swamp,  overgrown  with  tall  rushes  and 
reed-grass,  continued,  with  the  water  course  winding 
away  through  it. 

"Pwhat  th'  ould  boy  does  this  mane?"  cried  the  Irish 
lad. 

"It  means,"  said  Frank,  coolly,  "that  we  have  reached 
the  Everglades." 

"Th'  Ivirglades  ?  Well,  pwhat  do  we  want  iv  thim,  Oi 
dunno  ?" 

"They  are  one  of  the  sights  of  Florida,  Barney." 

"It's  soights  enough  I've  seen  alreddy.  Oi'd  loike  ter 
git  out  av  this." 

"I  knew  you  wouldn't  get  out  this  way,  for  we  have 
not  passed  the  rookeries  of  the  herons,  as  you  must 
remember." 


In  the  Everglades.  151 

"That's  true,"  sighed  the  professor,  dejectedly.  ':I 
hadn't  thought  of  that.  What  can  we  do,  boys  ?" 

"Turn  about,  and  retrace  our  steps,"  said  Frank. 

But  Barney  and  the  professor  raised  a  vigorous  pro 
test. 

"Nivver  a  bit  will  yez  get  me  inther  thot  swamp  again 
th'  doay !"  shouted  the  Irish  lad,  in  a  most  decisive  man 
ner. 

"If  we  go  back,  we'll  not  be  able  to  get  out  before 
darkness  comes  on,  and  we'll  have  to  spend  the  night  in 
the  swamp,"  said  Scotch,  excitedly.  "I  can't  do  that." 

"Well,  what  do  you  propose  to  do?"  asked  Frank, 
quietly.  "I  don't  seem  to  have  anything  to  say  in  this 
matter.  You  are  running  it  to  suit  yourselves." 

They  were  undecided,  but  one  thing  was  certain;  they 
would  not  go  back  into  the  swamp.  The  white  canoe 
was  there,  and  the  professor  and  the  Irish  lad  did  not 
care  to  see  that  again. 

"Whoy  not  go  on,  Frankie?"  asked  Barney.  "We're 
out  av  th'  woods,  an',  by  follyin'  this  strame,  we  ought 
to  get  out  av  th'  Iverglades." 

"What  do  you  say,  professor?"  asked  Frank,  who  was 
rather  enjoying  the  adventure,  although  he  did  not  fancy 
the  idea  of  spending  a  night  on  the  marsh. 

"Go  on — by  all  means,  go  on!"  roared  the  little  man. 

"Go  on,  if  is,  then.  We'll  proceed  to  explore  the 
Everglades  in  company  with  Professor  Scotch,  the  noted 
scientist  and  daring  adventurer.  Go  ahead!" 

So  they  pushed  onward  into  the  Everglades,  while  the 
sun  sank  lower  and  lower,  finally  dropping  beneath  the 
horizon. 

Night  was  coming  on,  and  they  were  in  the  heart  of 
the  Florida  Everglades! 

The  situation  was  far  from  pleasant. 

Barney  and  the  professor  fell  to  growling  at  each 
other,  and  they  kept  it  up  while  Frank  smiled  and  re 
mained  silent. 

At  length,  Scotch  took  in  his  paddle  in  disgust,  groan 
ing: 

"We're  lost!" 

"I  am  inclined  to  think  so  myself,"  admitted  Frank, 
cheerfully. 


152  In  the  Everglades. 

"Well,  who's  to  blame,  Oi'd  loike  to  know  ?"  cried  the 
Irish  lad. 

"You  are!"  roared  the  professor,  like  a  wounded  lion. 

"G'wan  wid  yez !"  exploded  Barney.  "It's  yersilf  thot 
is  to  blame !  Frankie  wanted  to  go  the  other  woay,  but 
ye  said  no." 

"Me !  me !  me !"  howled  the  professor.  "Did  I  ?  You 
were  the  one!  You  insisted  that  this  was  the  proper 
course  to  pursue !  You  are  to  blame  for  it  all !" 

"Profissor,  ye're  a  little  oulder  thin  Oi  be,  but  av  ye 
wur  nigh  me  age,  Oi'd  inform  ye  thot  ye  didn't  know 
how  to  spake  th'  truth." 

"Do  you  mean  to  call  me  a  liar,  you  impudent  young 
rascal?" 

"Not  now,  profissor ;  but  I  would  av  ye  wur  younger." 

"It's  all  the  'same !     It's  an  insult,  sir !" 

"Well,  pwhat  are  yez  goin'  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"I'll  make  you  swallow  the  words,  you  scoundrel!" 

"Well,  thot  would  be  more  av  a  male  thin  the  rist  av 
ye  are  loikely  to  get  th'  noight,  so  it  is !" 

"Come,  come,"  laughed  Frank;  "this  is  no  time  nor 
place  to  quarrel." 

"You're  right,  Frank;  but  this  ungrateful  young  vil 
lain  makes  me  very  tired !" 

"Careful,  professor — slang." 

"Excuse  me,  but  you  know  human  beings  are  influ 
enced  by  their  surroundings  and  associates.  If  I 
have " 

"Professor!"  cried  Frank,  reproachfully.  "You  would 
not  accuse  me  of  having  taught  you  to  use  slang?" 

"Ah — ha — ahem!  No,  no — that  is,  you  see — er — well, 
er,  that  Dutch  boy  was  always  saying  something  slangy." 

"Hans?" 

"Yes." 

"Professor!  professor!  He's  not  here  to  defend  him 
self." 

"Oh,  well!  Oh,  well!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Quite  a  joke- 
quite  a  little  joke,  you  know!  You  always  appreciate  a 
joke,  Frank.  You  are  full  of  fun  yourself." 

As  under  the  circumstances  there  was  nothing  else  to 
do,  they  finally  paddled  slowly  forward,  looking  for  a 


In  the  Everglades.  153 

piece  of  dry  land,  where  they  could  stop  and  camp  for  the 
night. 

They  approached  a  small  cluster  of  trees,  which  rose 
above  the  rushes,  and  it  was  seen  that  they  seemed  to  be 
growing  on  land  that  was  fairly  high  and  dry. 

"We'll  stop  there,"  decided  Frank.  "It's  not  likely 
we'll  find  another  place  like  that  anywhere  in  the  Ever 
glades." 

As  they  came  nearer,  they  saw  the  trees  seemed  to  be 
growing  on  an  island,  for  the  water  course  divided  and 
ran  on  either  side  of  them. 

"Just  the  place  for  a  camp !"  cried  Frank,  delightedly. 
"This  is  really  a  very  interesting  and  amusing  adven 
ture." 

"It  may  be  for  you,"  groaned  the  professor;  "but  you 
forget  that  it  is  said  to  be  possible  for  persons  to  lose 
themselves  in  the  Everglades  and  never  find  their  way 
out." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  remember  it  quite  well.  In  fact, 
it  is  said  that,  without  a  guide,  the  chances  of  finding  a 
way  out  of  the  Everglades  is  small,  indeed." 

"Well,  what  do  you  feel  so  exuberant  about?" 

"Why,  the  possibility  that  we'll  all  perish  in  the  Ever 
glades  adds  zest  to  this  adventure — makes  it  really  in 
teresting." 

"Frank,  you're  a  puzzle  to  me.  You  are  cautious  about 
running  into  danger  of  any  sort,  but,  once  in  it,  you  seem 
to  take  a  strange  and  unaccountable  delight  in  the  peril. 
The  greater  the  danger,  the  happier  you  seem  to  feel." 

"Thot's  roight,"  nodded  Barney. 

"When  I  am  not  in  danger,  my  good  judgment  tells 
me  to  take  no  chances ;  but  when  I  get  into  it  fairly,  I 
know  the  only  thing  to  be  done  is  to  make  the  best  of  it. 
I  delight  in  adventure — I  was  born  for  it!" 

A  dismal  sound  came  from  the  professor's  throat. 

"When  your  uncle  died,"  said  Scotch,  "I  thought  him 
my  friend.  Although  we  had  quarreled,  I  fancied  the 
hatchet  was  buried.  He  made  me  your  guardian,  and 
I  still  believed  he  had  died  with  nothing  but  friendly 
feelings  toward  me.  But  he  knew  you,  and  now  I  be 
lieve  it  was  an  act  of  malice  toward  me  when  he  made 
me  your  guardian.  And,  to  add  to  my  sufferings,  he 


154  1°  the  Everglades. 

decreed  that  I  should  travel  with  you.  Asher  Dow  Mer- 
riwell  deliberately  plotted  against  my  life !  He  knew  the 
sort  of  a  career  you  would  lead  me,  and  he  died  chuckling 
in  contemplation  of  the  misery  and  suffering  you  would 
inflict  upon  me !  That  man  was  a  monster — an  inhuman 
wretch !" 

"Look  there !"  cried  Barney,  pointing  toward  the  small, 
timbered  island. 

"What  is  it?" 

"May  Ould  Nick  floy  away  wid  me  av  it  ain't  a  house  t" 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE    HUT    ON    THE    ISLAND. 

"A  house?" 

"A  cabin!" 

"A  hut  amid  the  trays." 

In  a  little  clearing  on  some  rising  ground  amid  the 
trees  they  could  see  the  hut. 

"Is  it  possible  any  one  lives  here?"  exclaimed  the  pro 
fessor. 

"It  looks  as  if  some  one  stops  here  at  times,  at  least," 
said  Frank. 

"Av  this  ain't  a  clear  case  av  luck,  Oi  dunno  mesilf !" 

"We'll  get  the  man  who  lives  there  to  guide  us  out  of 
the  Everglades!"  shouted  the  professor,  in  a  relieved 
tone. 

Then  Frank  cast  a  gloom  over  their  spirits  by  saying: 

"This  may  be  a  hunter's  cabin,  inhabited  only  at  cer 
tain  seasons  of  the  year.  Ten  to  one,  there's  no  one  liv 
ing  in  it  now." 

"You'd  be  pleased  if  there  wasn't!"  almost  snarled 
Professor  Scotch.  "You're  a  boy  without  a  heart !" 

Frank  laughed  softly. 

"We'll  soon  find  out  if  there's  any  one  at  home,"  he 
said,  as  the  canoe  ran  up  to  the  bank,  and  he  took  care 
to  get  out  first. 

As  soon  as  Frank  was  out,  the  professor  made  a 
scramble  to  follow  him.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  despite 
Barney's  warning  cry,  and,  a  moment  later,  the  cranky 
craft  flipped  bottom  upward,  with  the  swiftness  of  a  flash 
of  lightning. 

The  professor  and  the  Irish  lad  disappeared  beneath 
the  surface  of  the  water. 

Barney's  head  popped  up  in  a  moment,  and  he  stood 
upon  his  feet,  with  the  water  to  his  waist,  uttering  some 
very  vigorous  words. 

Up  came  the  professor,  open  flew  his  mouth,  out 
spurted  a  stream  of  water,  and  then  he  wildly  roared: 


156 


The  Hut  on  the  Island. 


"Help !     Save  me !    I  can't  swim !    I'm  drowning !" 

Before  either  of  the  boys  could  say  a  word,  he  went 
under  again. 

"This  is  th'  firrust  toime  Oi  iver  saw  a  man  thot 
wanted  to  drown  in  thray  fate  av  wather,"  said  Barney. 

Frank  sat  down  on  the  dry  ground,  and  shouted  with 
laughter. 

Up  popped  the  professor  a  second  time. 

"Help!"  he  bellowed,  after  he  had  spurted  another  big 
stream  of  water  from  his  mouth.  "Will  you  see  me 
perish  before  your  very  eyes  ?  Save  me,  Frank !" 

But  Frank  was  laughing  so  heartily  that  he  could  not 
say  a  word,  and  the  little  man  went  down  once  more. 

"Hivins!  he  really  manes  to  drown!"  said  Barney,  in 
disgust. 

"Grab  him!"  gasped  Frank.  "Don't  let  him  go  down 
again.  Oh,  my!  what  a  scrape!  This  beats  our  rec 
ord!" 

For  the  third  time  the  professor's  head  appeared  above 
the  surface,  and  the  professor's  voice  weakly  called : 

"Will  no  one  save  me?  This  is  a  plot  to  get  me  out 
of  the  way!  Oh,  Frank,  Frank!  I  never  thought  this 
of  you!  Farewell!  May  you  be  happy  when  I  am 
gone!" 

"Stand  up!"  shouted  Frank,  seeing  that  the  little  man 
had  actually  resigned  himself  to  drown.  "Get  your  feet 
under  you.  The  water  is  shallow  there." 

The  professor  stood  up,  and  an  expression  of  pain, 
surprise,  and  disgust  settled  on  his  face,  as  he  thickly 
muttered : 

"May  I  be  kicked!  And  I've  been  under  the  water 
two-thirds  of  the  time  for  the  last  hour !  I've  swallowed 
more  than  two  barrels  of  this  swamp-water,  including,  in 
all  probability,  a  few  dozen  pollywogs,  lizards,  young  alli 
gators,  and  other  delightful  things !  If  the  water  wasn't 
so  blamed  dirty  here,  and  I  wasn't  afraid  of  swallowing 
enough  creatures  to  start  an  aquarium,  I'd  just  lie  down 
and  refuse  to  make  another  effort  to  get  up." 

Then  he  waded  out,  the  look  on  his  face  causing  Frank 
to  double  up  with  merriment,  while  even  the  wretched 
Barney  smiled. 

Barney  would  have  waded  out,  but  Frank  said: 


The  Hut  on  the  Island.  157 

"Don't  attempt  to  land  without  those  guns,  old  man. 
They're  somewhere  on  the  bottom,  and  we  want  them." 

So  Barney  was  forced  to  plunge  under  the  surface 
and  feel  around  till  he  had  fished  up  the  rifles  and  the 
shotgun. 

Frank  had  taken  care  of  his  bow  and  arrows,  the  lat 
ter  being  in  a  quiver  at  his  back,  and  the  paddles  had 
not  floated  away. 

After  a  time,  everything  was  recovered,  the  canoe  was 
drawn  out  and  tipped  bottom  upward,  and  the  trio  moved 
toward  the  cabin,  Frank  leading,  and  the  professor  stag 
gering  along  behind. 

Reaching  the  cabin,  Frank  rapped  loudly  on  the  door. 

No  answer. 

Once  more  he  knocked,  and  then,  as  there  was  no 
reply,  he  pushed  the  door  open,  and  entered. 

The  cabin  was  not  occupied  by  any  living  being,  but 
a  glance  showed  the  trio  that  some  one  had  been  there 
not  many  hours  before,  for  the  embers  of  a  fire  still 
glowed  dimly  on  the  open  hearth  of  flat  stones. 

There  were  two  rooms,  the  door  between  them  being 
open,  so  the  little  party  could  look  into  the  second. 

The  first  room  seemed  to  be  the  principal  room  of  the 
hut,  while  the  other  was  a  bedroom.  They  could  see 
the  bed  through  the  open  doorway. 

There  were  chairs,  a  table,  a  couch,  and  other  things, 
for  the  most  part  rude,  home-made  stuff,  and  still  every 
piece  showed  that  the  person  who  constructed  it  had 
skill  and  taste. 

Around  the  walls  were  hung  various  tin  pans  and 
dishes,  all  polished  bright  and  clean. 

What  surprised  them  the  most  was  the  wire  screens 
in  the  windows,  a  screen  door  that  swung  inward,  and  a 
mosquito-bar  canopy  over  the  bed  and  the  couch. 

"By  Jove!"  cried  Frank;  "the  person  who  lives  here 
is  prepared  to  protect  himself  against  mosquitoes  and 
black  flies." 

"It  would  be  impossible  to  live  here  in  the  summer," 
gravely  declared  Professor  Scotch,  forgetting  his  own 
misery  for  the  moment.  "The  pests  would  drive  a  man 
crazy." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  returned  Frank.    "If 


158  The  Hut  on  the  Island. 

a  man  knew  how  to  defend  himself  against  them  he 
might  get  along  all  right.  They  can't  be  worse  than 
the  mosquitoes  of  Alaska  in  the  warm  months.  Up  there 
the  Indians  get  along  all  right,  even  though  mosquitoes 
have  been  known  to  kill  a  bear." 

"Pwhat's  thot?"  gurgled  Barney.  "Kill  a  bear? 
Oh,  Frankie,  me  b'y,  Oi  nivver  thought  that  av  you !" 

"It's  true,"  affirmed  Professor  Scotch.  "Sometimes 
bears,  lured  by  hunger,  will  come  down  into  the  lowlands, 
where  mosquitoes  will  attack  them.  They  will  stand 
up  on  their  hind  legs  and  strike  at  the  little  pests  with 
their  forward  paws.  Sometimes  a  bear  will  do  this  till 
he  is  exhausted  and  falls.  Then  the  mosquitoes  finish 
him." 

"Thot's  a  harrud  yarn  to  belave,  profissor ;  but  it  goes 
av  you  soay  so,"  said  Barney,  thinking  it  best  to  smooth 
over  the  late  unpleasantness. 

"Up  there,"  said  Frank,  "the  Indians  smear  their  faces 
and  hands  with  some  kind  of  sticky  stuff  that  keeps  the 
mosquitoes  from  reaching  their  flesh.  In  that  way  they 
get  along  very  well." 

But  they  had  something  to  talk  about  besides  the  In 
dians  of  Alaska,  for  the  surprises  around  them  furnished 
topics  for  conversation. 

•  Exploring  the  place,  they  found  it  well  stocked  with 
provisions,  which  caused  them  all  to  feel  delighted. 

"I'm  actually  glad  we  came!"  laughed  Frank.  "This 
is  fun  galore." 

"It  will  be  all  right  if  we  are  able  to  get  out  of  the 
scrape,"  said  Scotch. 

Barney  built  a  fire,  while  Frank  prepared  to  make 
bread  and  cook  supper,  having  found  everything  neces 
sary  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  task. 

The  professor  stripped  off  his  outer  garments,  wrung 
the  water  out  of  them,  and  hung  them  up  before  the 
fire  to  dry. 

His  example  was  followed  by  the  Irish  boy. 

They  made  themselves  as  comfortable  as  possible,  and 
night  came  on,  finding  them  in  a  much  better  frame  of 
mind  than  they  had  expected  to  be. 

Frank  succeeded  in  baking  some  bread  in  the  stone 


The  Hut  on  the  Island.  159 

oven.  He  found  coffee,  and  a  pot  bubbled  on  the  coals, 
sending  out  an  odor  that  made  the  trio  feel  ravenous. 

There  were  candles  in  abundance,  and  two  of  them 
were  lighted.  Then,  when  everything  was  ready,  they 
sat  down  to  the  table  and  enjoyed  a  supper  that  put  them 
in  the  best  of  moods. 

The  door  of  the  hut  was  left  open,  and  the  light  shone 
out  upon  the  overturned  canoe  and  the  dark  water  be 
yond. 

After  supper  they  cleaned  and  dried  the  rifles  and 
shotgun. 

"By  jingoes!"  laughed  Frank;  "this  is  a  regular  pic 
nic!  I'm  glad  we  took  the  wrong  course,  and  came 
here !" 

"You  may  change  your  tune  before  we  get  out,"  said 
the  professor,  whose  trousers  were  dry,  and  who  was 
now  feeling  of  his  coat  to  see  how  that  was  coming  on. 

"Don't  croak,  profissor,"  advised  Barney.  "You're  th' 
firrust  mon  Oi  iver  saw  thot  wuz  bound  ter  drown  him- 
silf  in  thray  fate  av  wather.  Ha !  ha !  ha !" 

"Oh,  laugh,  laugh,"  snapped  the  little  man,  fiercely. 
"I'll  get  even  with  you  for  that  some  time!  What  fools 
boys  are!" 

After  supper  they  lay  around  and  took  things  easy. 
Barney  and  Frank  told  stories  till  it  was  time  to  go  to 
bed,  and  they  finally  turned  in,  first  having  barred  the 
door  and  made  sure  the  windows  were  securely  fastened. 

They  soon  slept,  but  they  were  not  to  rest  quietly 
through  the  night.  Other  mysterious  things  were  soon 
to  follow  those  of  the  day. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  WILD  NIGHT  IN  THE  SWAMP. 

Gang!  clang!  clang! 

"Fire!" 

"Turn  out!" 

The  boys  leaped  to  their  feet,  and  the  professor  came 
tearing  out  of  the  bedroom,  ran  into  the  table,  which 
he  overturned  with  a  great  clatter  of  dishes,  reeled  back 
ward,  and  sat  down  heavily  on  the  floor,  where  he  rubbed 
his  eyes,  and  muttered: 

"I  thought  that  fire  engine  was  going  to  run  me  down 
before  I  could  get  out  of  the  way." 

"Fire  engine!"  cried  Frank  Merriwell.  "Who  ever 
heard  of  a  fire  engine  in  the  heart  of  the  Florida  Ever 
glades?" 

"Oi  herrud  th'  gong,"  declared  Barney. 

"So  did  I,"  asserted  the  professor. 

"I  heard  something  that  sounded  like  a  fire  gong,"  ad 
mitted  Frank. 

"Pwhat  was  it,  Oi  dunno  ?" 

"It  seemed  to  come  from  beneath  the  head  of  the  bed 
in  there,"  said  Scotch. 

"An*  Oi  thought  I  herrud  it  under  me  couch  out  here," 
gurgled  Barney. 

"We  will  light  a  candle,  and  look  around,"  said  Frank. 

A  candle  was  lighted,  and  they  looked  for  the  cause  of 
the  midnight  alarm,  but  they  found  nothing  that  ex 
plained  the  mystery. 

"Whist!"  hissed  the  Irish  boy.  "It's  afther  gettin' 
away  from  here  we'd  better  be,  mark  me  worrud." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  demanded  Frank, 
sharply. 

"It's  spooks  there  be  around  this  place,  ur  Oi'm  mis 
taken  !" 

"Oh,  I've  heard  enough  about  spooks!  It's  getting 
tiresome." 

The  professor  was  silent,  but  he  shook  his  head  in  a 


A  Wild  Night  in  the  Swamp.        161 

very  mysterious  manner,  as  if  he  thought  a  great  many 
things  he  did  not  care  to  speak  about. 

They  had  been  thoroughly  awakened,  but,  after  a 
time,  failing  to  discover  what  had  aroused  them,  they 
decided  to  return  to  bed. 

Five  minutes  after  they  lay  down,  Frank  and  the  pro 
fessor  were  brought  to  their  feet  by  a  wild  howl  and  a 
thud.  They  rushed  out  of  the  bedroom,  and  nearly  fell 
over  Barney,  who  was  lying  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
at  least  eight  feet  from  the  couch. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  cried  Frank,  aston 
ished. 

"Oi  was  touched!"  palpitated  the  Irish  lad,  thickly. 

"Touched?" 

"Thot's  pwhat !" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"Oi  wur  jist  beginning  to  get  slapy  whin  something 
grabbed  me  an'  threw  me  clan  out  here  in  th'  middle  av 
th'  room." 

"Oh,  say !  what  are  you  trying  to  make  us  believe !" 

"Oi'll  swear  to  it,  Frankie — Oi'll  swear  on  a  stack  av 
Boibles." 

"You  dreamed  it,  Barney ;  that's  what's  the  matter." 

"Nivver  a  drame,  me  b'y,  fer  Oi  wasn't  aslape  at  all, 
at  all." 

"But  you  may  have  been  asleep,  for  you  say  you  were 
beginning  to  get  sleepy.  There  isn't  anything  here  to 
grab  you." 

"Oi  dunno  about  thot,  Frankie.  Oi'm  incloined  to  be- 
lave  th'  Ould  B'y's  around,  so  Oi  am." 

"Oh,  this  is  tiresome !    Go  back  to  bed,  and  keep  still." 

"Nivver  a  bit  will  Oi  troy  to  slape  on  thot  couch  again 
th'  noight,  me  b'y.  Oi'll  shtay  roight  here  on  th'  flure." 

"Sleep  where  you  like,  but  keep  still.    That's  all." 

Frank  was  somewhat  nettled  by  these  frequent  inter 
ruptions  of  his  rest,  and  he  was  more  than  tempted  to 
give  Barney  cause  to  believe  the  hut  was  really  haunted, 
for  he  was  an  expert  ventriloquist,  and  he  could  have  in 
dulged  in  a  great  deal  of  sport  with  the  Irish  boy. 

But  other  things  were  soon  to  take  up  their  attention. 
While  they  were  talking  a  strange  humming  arose  on 
every  side  and  seemed  to  fill  the  entire  hut.  At  first,  it 


1 62       A  Wild  Night  in  the  Swamp. 

was  like  a  swarm  of  bees,  but  it  grew  louder  and  louder 
till  it  threatened  to  swell  into  a  roar. 

Professor  Scotch  was  nearly  frightened  out  of  his  wits. 

"It  is  the  end  of  everything!"  he  shrieked,  making  a 
wild  dash  for  the  door,  which  he  flung  wide  open. 

But  the  professor  did  not  rush  out  of  the  cabin.  In 
stead,  he  flung  up  his  hands,  staggered  backward,  and 
nearly  fell  to  the  floor. 

"The  white  canoe!"  he  faintly  gasped,  clutching  at 
empty  air  for  support. 

Frank  sprang  forward,  catching  and  steadying  the  pro 
fessor. 

"The  white  canoe — where?" 

"Out  there!" 

Sure  enough,  on  the  dark  surface  of  the  water,  directly 
in  front  of  the  hut,  lay  the  mysterious  canoe. 

And  now  this  singular  craft  was  illuminated  from 
stem  to  stern  by  a  soft,  white  light  that  showed  its  out 
lines  plainly. 

"Sint  Patherick  presarve  us!"  panted  Barney  Mulloy. 

"I  am  getting  tired  of  being  chased  around  by  a  ca 
noe!"  said  Frank,  in  disgust,  as  he  hastily  sought  one  of 
the  rifles. 

"Don't  shoot !"  entreated  the  professor,  in  great  alarm. 

"Av  yer  do,  our  goose  is  cooked !"  fluttered  Barney. 

Frank  threw  a  fresh  cartridge  into  the  rifle,  and  turned 
toward  the  open  door,  his  mind  fully  made  up. 

And  then,  to  the  profound  amazement  of  all  three, 
seated  in  the  canoe  there  seemed  to  be  an  old  man,  with 
white  hair  and  long,  white  beard.  The  soft,  white  light 
seemed  to  come  from  every  part  of  his  person,  as  it  came 
from  the  canoe. 

Frank  Merriwell  paused,  with  the  rifle  partly  lifted. 

"It's  th'  spook  himsilf!"  gasped  Barney,  covering  his 
face  with  his  hands,  and  clinging  to  the  professor. 

"That's  right!"  faintly  said  Scotch.  "For  mercy's 
sake,  don't  shoot,  Frank !  We're  lost  if  you  do !" 

Frank  was  startled  and  astonished,  but  he  was  deter 
mined  not  to  lose  his  nerve,  no  matter  what  happened. 

The  man  in  the  canoe  seemed  to  be  looking  directly 
toward  the  cabin.  He  slowly  lifted  one  hand,  and  pointed 
away  across  the  Everglades,  at  the  same  time  motioning 


A  Wild  Night  in  the  Swamp.        163 

with  the  other  hand,  as  if  for  them  to  go  in  that  direc 
tion. 

"I'll  just  send  a  bullet  over  his  head,  to  see  what  he 
thinks  of  it,"  said  Frank,  softly,  lifting  the  rifle. 

Then  another  startling  thing  happened. 

Canoe  and  man  disappeared  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye ! 

The  trio  in  the  hut  gasped  and  rubbed  their  eyes. 

"Gone!"  cried  Frank. 

"Vanished!"  panted  the  professor. 

"An'  now  Oi  suppose  ye'll  say  it  wur  no  ghost?" 
gurgled  Barney. 

It  was  extremely  dark  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  cy 
press  trees,  and  not  a  sign  of  the  mysterious  canoe  could 
they  see. 

"It  is  evident  he  did  not  care  to  have  me  send  a  bullet 
whizzing  past  his  ears,"  laughed  Frank,  who  did  not 
seem  in  the  least  disturbed. 

"What  are  your  nerves  made  of?"  demanded  Profes 
sor  Scotch,  in  a  shaking  tone  of  voice.  "They  must  be 
iron!" 

"Hark !" 

Frank's  hand  fell  on  the  professor's  arm,  and  the  three 
listened  intently,  hearing  something  that  gave  them  no 
little  surprise. 

From  far  away  through  the  night  came  the  sound  of 
hoarse  voices  singing  a  wild,  doleful  song. 

"Hamlet's  ghost!"  ejaculated  the  professor. 

"Pwhat  the  Ould  Nick  does  thot  mane  ?"  cried  Barney. 

"Hark!"  Frank  again  cautioned.  "Let's  see  if  we  can 
understand  the  words  they  are  singing.  Be  still." 

"We  sailed  away  from  Gloucester  Bay, 

And  the  wind  was  in  the  west,  yo  ho ! 
And  her  cargo  was  some  New  England  rum; 
Our  grog  it  was  made  of  the  best,  yo  ho !" 

"A  sailor's  song,"  decided  Frank,  and  those  are  sailors 
who  are  singing.  We  are  not  alone  in  the  Everglades." 

"They're  all  drunk,"  declared  the  professor.  "You 
can  tell  that  by  the  sound  of  their  voices.  Drunken  men 
are  dangerous." 

"They're  a  blamed  soight  betther  than  none,  fer  it's 


1 64       A  Wild  Night  in  the  Swamp. 

loikely  they  know  th'  way  out  av  this  blissed  swamp," 
said  Barney. 

"They  may  bub-bub-be  pup-pup-pup-pirates!"  chat 
tered  the  professor. 

"What  sticks  me,"  said  Frank,  "is  how  a  party  of  sail 
ors  ever  made  their  way  in  here,  for  we  are  miles  upon 
miles  from  the  coast.  Here  is  another  mystery." 

"Are  ye  fer  takin'  a  look  at  th'  loikes  av  thim, 
Frankie?" 

"Certainly,  and  that  without  delay.    Come,  professor." 

"Never!" 

''What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  am  not  going  near  those  ruffianly  and  bloodthirsty 
pirates." 

"Then  you  may  stay  here  with  the  spooks,  while  Bar 
ney  and  I  go." 

This  was  altogether  too  much  for  the  professor,  and, 
when  he  found  they  really  intended  to  go,  he  gave  in. 

Frank  loaded  the  rifles  and  the  shotgun,  and  took  along 
his  bow  and  arrows,  even  though  Barney  made  sport  of 
him  for  bothering  with  the  last. 

They  slipped  the  canoe  into  the  water,  and,  directed  by 
Frank,  the  professor  succeeded  in  getting  in  without 
upsetting  the  frail  affair. 

"Oi  hope  we  won't  run  inther  the  ghost,"  uttered  the 
Irish  boy. 

"The  sound  of  that  singing  comes  from  the  direction 
in  which  the  old  man  seemed  to  point,"  said  Frank. 

This  was  true,  as  they  all  remembered. 

The  singing  continued,  sometimes  sinking  to  a  low, 
droning  sound,  sometimes  rising  to  a  wild  wail  that 
sounded  weirdly  over  the  marshland. 

"Ready,"  said  Frank,  and  the  canoe  slipped  silently 
over  the  dark  surface  of  the  water  course. 

The  singing  ceased  after  a  time,  but  they  were  still 
guided  by  the  sound  of  wrangling  voices. 

"They  are  quarreling!"  exclaimed  Frank,  softly. 

"This  is  tut-tut-terrible !"  stuttered  the  professor. 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  a  pistol  shot  came  over  the 
rushes,  followed  by  a  feminine  shriek  of  pain  or  terror! 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

FRANK'S  SHOT. 

Frank  and  his  two  companions  were  profoundly  as 
tonished.  As  soon  as  he  could  recover,  Frank  asked: 

"Did  you  hear  that?" 

"Av  course  we  hearrud  it !"  returned  Barney,  excitedly. 

"It  sounded  very  much  like  the  voice  of  a  woman  or 
girl,"  said  Professor  Scotch,  who  was  so  amazed  that 
he  forgot  for  the  moment  that  he  was  scared. 

"That's  what  it  was,"  declared  Frank;  "and  it  means 
that  our  aid  is  needed  in  that  quarter  at  once." 

"Be  careful !  be  cautious !"  warned  the  professor. 
"There's  no  telling  what  kind  of  a  gang  we  may  run 
into." 

"To  thunder  with  thot !"  grated  Barney  Mulloy,  quiv 
ering  with  eagerness.  "There's  a  female  in  nade  av 
hilp." 

"Go  ahead!"  directed  Frank,  giving  utterance  to  his 
old  maxim. 

The  professor  was  too  agitated  to  handle  a  paddle,  so 
the  task  of  propelling  the  canoe  fell  to  the  boys,  who 
sent  it  skimming  over  the  water,  Frank  watching  out  for 
snags. 

In  a  moment  the  water  course  swept  round  to  the  left, 
and  they  soon  saw  the  light  of  a  fire  gleaming  through 
the  rushes. 

The  sounds  of  a  conflict  continued,  telling  them  that 
the  quarrel  was  still  on,  and  aiding  them  in  forming  their 
course. 

In  a  moment  they  came  in  full  view  of  the  camp-fire, 
by  the  light  of  which  they  saw  several  struggling,  sway 
ing  figures. 

Frank's  keen  eyes  seemed  to  take  in  everything  at  one 
sweeping  glance. 

Six  men  and  a  girl  were  revealed  by  the  light  of  the 
fire.  Five  of  the  men  were  engaged  in  a  fierce  battle, 


1 66  Frank's  Shot. 

while  the  sixth  was  bound,  in  a  standing  position,  to  the 
trunk  of  a  tree. 

The  girl,  with  her  hands  bound  behind  her  back,  was 
standing  near  the  man  who  was  tied  to  the  tree,  and  the 
firelight  fell  fairly  on  the  faces  of  man  and  girl. 

A  low  exclamation  of  the  utmost  astonishment  broke 
from  Frank's  lips. 

"It  can't  be — it  is  an  impossibility!"  he  said. 

"Pwhat  is  it,  me  b'y?"  quickly  demanded  Barney. 

"The  man — the  girl!  Look,  Barney!  do  you  know 
them?" 

"Oi  dunno." 

"Well,  I  know!  There  is  no  mistake.  That  is  Cap 
tain  Justin  Bellwood,  whose  vessel  was  lost  in  the  storm 
off  Fardale  coast !  I  am  certain  of  it !" 

"An'  th'  girrul  is " 

"Elsie  Bellwood,  his  daughter!" 

"Th5  wan  you  saved  from  th'  foire,  Frankie?" 

"As  sure  as  fate!" 

"It  can't  be  possible!"  fluttered  Professor  Scotch. 
"Captain  Bellwood  has  a  new  vessel,  and  he  would  not 
be  here.  You  must  be  mistaken,  Frank." 

"Not  on  your  life!  That  is  Captain  Bellwood  and  his 
daughter.  There  is  no  mistake,  professor." 

"But  how " 

"There  has  been  some  kind  of  trouble,  and  they  are 
captives — that  is  plain  enough.  Those  men  are  sailors — 
Captain  Bellwood's  sailors!  It's  likely  there  has  been 
a  mutiny.  We  must  save  them." 

"How  can  it  be  done?" 

"We  must  land  while  those  ruffians  are  fighting.  We 
are  well  armed.  If  we  can  get  ashore,  we'll  set  the  cap 
tain  free,  and  I  fancy  we'll  be  able  to  hold  our  own  with 
those  ruffians,  desperate  wretches  though  they  are." 

"Wait!"  advised  the  timid  professor.  "Perhaps  they 
will  kill  each  other,  and  then  our  part  will  be  easy." 

Frank  was  not  for  waiting,  but,  at  that  moment,  some 
thing  happened  that  caused  him  to  change  his  plan  im 
mediately. 

The  fighting  ruffians  were  using  knives  in  a  deadly 
way,  and  one  man,  bleeding  from  many  wounds,  fell 
exhausted  to  the  ground.  Another,  who  seemed  to  be 


Frank's  Shot.  167 

this  one's  comrade,  tore  himself  from  the  other  three, 
leaped  to  the  girl,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  held  her 
in  front  of  him,  so  that  her  body  shielded  his.  Then, 
pointing  a  revolver  over  her  shoulder,  he  snarled : 

"Come  on,  and  I'll  bore  the  three  of  ye!  You  can't 
shoot  me,  Gage,  unless  you  kill  ther  gal!" 

The  youngest  one  of  the  party,  a  mere  boy,  but  a 
fellow  with  the  air  of  a  desperado,  stepped  to  the  front, 
saying  swiftly : 

"If  you  don't  drop  that  girl,  Jaggers,  you'll  leave  your 
carcass  in  this  swamp!  That  is  business,  my  hearty." 

Frank  clapped  a  hand  over  his  mouth  to  keep  from 
uttering  a  great  shout  of  amazement.  The  next  moment 
he  panted: 

"This  is  fate !  Look,  Barney !  by  the  eternal  skies,  that 
is  Leslie  Gage,  my  worst  enemy  at  Fardale  Academy,  and 
the  fellow  who  ran  away  to  keep  from  being  expelled. 
It  was  reported  that  he  had  gone  to  sea." 

"Ye're  roight,  Frankie,"  agreed  the  no  less  excited 
Irish  lad.  "It's  thot  skunk,  an'  no  mistake!" 

"It  is  Leslie  Gage,"  agreed  the  professor.  "He  was 
ever  a  bad  boy,  but  I  did  not  think  he  would  come  to 
this." 

"An'  Oi  always  thought  he  would  come  to  some  bad 
ind.  It  wur  thot  spalpane  thot  troied  to  run  Frank 
through  with  a  sharpened  foil  wan  toime  whin  they  wur 
fencing.  He  had  black  murder  in  his  hearrut  thin,  an* 
it's  not  loikely  th'  whilp  has  grown  inny  betther  since." 

"Keep  still,"  whispered  Frank.  "Let's  hear  what  is 
said." 

The  man  with  the  girl  laughed  defiantly,  retorting: 

"You  talk  big,  Gage,  but  it  won't  work  with  me.  I 
hold  the  best  hand  just  at  present,  and  you'll  have  to 
come  to  terms.  Keep  back!" 

"You  don't  dare  shoot,"  returned  the  young  desperado, 
as  he  took  still  another  step  toward  the  sailor. 

In  a  moment  the  man  placed  the  muzzle  of  the  re 
volver  against  the  temple  of  the  helpless  girl,  fiercely 
declaring : 

"If  you  come  another  inch,  I'll  blow  her  brains  out !" 

"The  dastard  !"  grated  Frank.  "Oh,  the  wretch  !  Wait- 
I  will  fix  him,  or  my  name  is  not  Merriwell !" 


1 68  Frank's  Shot. 

He  drew  an  arrow  from  the  quiver,  and  fitted  the  notch 
to  the  bow-string1.  His  nerves  were  steady,  and  he  was 
determined.  He  waited  till  the  man  had  removed  the 
muzzle  of  the  weapon  from  the  girl's  temple,  and  then 
he  lifted  the  bow. 

Barney  and  the  professor  caught  their  breath.  They 
longed  to  check  Frank,  but  dared  not  speak  for  fear  of 
causing  him  to  waver  and  send  the  arrow  at  the  girl. 

The  bow  was  bent,  the  line  was  taut,  the  arrow  was 
drawn  to  the  head,  and  then 

Twang!  The  arrow  sped  through  the  air,  but  it  was 
too  dark  for  them  to  follow  its  flight  with  their  eyes. 
With  their  hearts  in  their  mouths,  they  awaited  the  re 
sult. 

Of  a  sudden,  the  ruffian  uttered  a  cry  of  pain,  released 
his  hold  on  the  girl,  and  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

The  firelight  showed  the  arrow  sticking  in  his  shoul 
der. 

"Ugh !"  grunted  a  voice  close  beside  the  canoe.  "Very 
good  shot  for  a  white  boy.  Not  many  could  do  that." 

The  trio  turned  in  amazement  and  alarm,  and,  within 
three  feet  of  them,  they  saw  a  shadowy  canoe  that  con 
tained  a  shadowy  figure.  There  was  but  one  person  in 
the  strange  canoe,  and  he  immediately  added : 

"There  is  no  need  to  fear  Socato,  the  Seminole,  for 
he  will  not  harm  you.  He  is  the  friend  of  all  good 
white  men." 

It  was  an  Indian,  a  Seminole,  belonging  to  the  rem 
nant  of  the  once  great  nation  that  peopled  the  Florida 
peninsula.  Frank  realized  this  in  a  moment,  and,  know 
ing  the  Seminoles  were  harmless  when  well  treated,  felt 
no  further  alarm. 

The  Indian  had  paddled  with  the  utmost  silence  to 
their  side,  while  they  were  watching  what  was  taking 
place  on  shore. 

The  arrow  had  produced  consternation  in  the  camp. 
The  fellow  who  was  wounded  tried  to  draw  it  from 
his  shoulder,  groaning: 

"This  is  not  a  fair  deal!  Give  me  a  fair  show,  and 
I'll  fight  you  all !" 

"Where  did  it  come  from?"  asked  Gage,  in  dismay. 


Frank's  Shot.  169 

The  two  canoes  were  beyond  the  circle  of  firelight,  so 
they  could  not  be  seen  from  the  shore. 

Gage's  two  companions  were  overcome  with  terror. 

"This  swamp  is  full  of  Indians!"  one  of  them  cried. 
"We've  been  attacked  by  a  band  of  savages !" 

Gage  spoke  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone,  and  then 
sprang  over  the  prostrate  form  of  the  man  who  had  been 
stricken  down  by  the  arrow,  grasped  the  girl,  and 
retreated  into  the  darkness.  His  companions  also  scudded 
swiftly  beyond  the  firelight,  leaving  Captain  Bellwood 
still  bound  to  the  tree,  while  one  man  lay  dead  on  the 
ground,  and  another  had  an  arrow  in  his  shoulder. 

Close  to  Frank's  ear  the  voice  of  Socato  the  Seminole 
sounded : 

"Light  bother  them.  They  git  in  the  dark  and  see  us 
from  the  shore.  Then  they  shoot  this  way  some." 

"Jupiter  and  Mars!"  gasped  Professor  Scotch,  "I 
don't  care  to  stay  here,  and  have  them  shoot  at  me !" 

"White  boys  want  to  save  girl  ?"  asked  Socato,  swiftly. 
"They  pay  to  get  her  free  ?  What  say  ?" 

"Of  course  we  will  pay,"  hastily  answered  Frank.  "Can 
you  aid  us  in  saving  her  ?  If  you  can,  you  shall  be " 

"Socato  save  her.  White  man  and  two  boys  go  back 
to  cabin  of  Great  White  Phantom.  Stay  there,  and 
Socato  come  with  the  girl." 

"Begorra!  Oi  don't  loike  thot,"  declared  Barney. 
"Oi'd  loike  to  take  a  hand  in  th'  rescue  mesilf." 

"Socato  can  do  better  alone,"  asserted  the  Seminole. 
"Trust  me." 

But  Frank  was  not  inclined  to  desert  Elsie  Bellwood 
in  her  hour  of  trouble,  and  he  said: 

"Socato,  you  must  take  me  with  you.  Professor,  you 
and  Barney  go  back  to  the  hut,  and  stay  there  till  we 
come." 

The  Indian  hesitated,  and  then  said : 

"If  white  boy  can  shoot  so  well  with  the  bow  and 
arrow,  he  may  not  be  in  the  way.  I  will  take  him,  if 
he  can  step  from  one  canoe  to  the  other  without  upset 
ting  either." 

"That's  easy,"  said  Frank,  as  he  deliberately  and  safely 
accomplished  the  feat. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

YOUNG  IN  YEARS  ONLY. 

"Well  done,  white  boy,"  complimented  the  strange 
Indian. 

"Pass  me  one  of  those  rifles,"  requested  Frank. 

"White  boy  better  leave  rifle;  take  bow  and  arrows," 
advised  Socato.  "Rifle  make  noise;  bow  and  arrow 
make  no  noise." 

"All  right;  what  you  say  goes.  Return  to  the  hut, 
Barney,  and  stay  there  till  we  show  up." 

"But  th'  spook " 

"Hang  the  spook!  We'll  know  where  to  find  you,  if 
you  go  there." 

"The  Great  White  Phantom  will  not  harm  those  who 
offer  him  no  harm,"  declared  the  Indian. 

"I  am  not  so  afraid  of  spooks  as  I  am  of Jump 
ing  Jupiter !" 

There  was  a  flash  of  fire  from  the  darkness  on  shore, 
the  report  of  a  gun,  and  a  bullet  whirred  through  the  air, 
cutting  the  professor's  speech  short,  and  causing  him  to 
duck  down  into  the  canoe. 

"Those  fellows  have  located  us,"  said  Frank,  swiftly. 
"We  must  get  away  immediately.  Remember,  wait  at 
the  hut." 

Socato's  paddle  dropped  without  a  sound  into  the 
water,  and  the  canoe  slid  away  into  the  night. 

The  professor  and  Barney  lost  no  time  in  moving,  and 
it  was  well  they  did  so,  for,  a  few  seconds  later,  another 
shot  came  from  the  shore,  and  the  bullet  skipped  along 
the  water  just  where  the  canoes  had  been. 

Frank  trusted  everything  to  Socato,  even  though  he 
had  never  seen  or  heard  of  the  Seminole  before.  Some 
thing  about  the  voice  of  the  Indian  convinced  the  boy 
that  he  was  honest,  for  all  that  his  darkness  was  such 
that  Frank  could  not  see  his  face  and  did  not  know  how 
he  looked. 

The  Indian  sent  the  canoe  through  the  water  with  a 


Young  in  Years  Only.  171 

speed  and  silence  that  was  a  revelation  to  Frank  Mer- 
riwell.  The  paddle  made  no  sound,  and  it  seemed  that 
the  prow  of  the  canoe  scarcely  raised  a  ripple,  for  all 
that  they  were  gliding  along  so  swiftly. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  whispered  Frank,  observing 
that  they  were  leaving  the  camp-fire  astern. 

"White  boy  trust  Socato?" 

"If  I  didn't,  I  shouldn't  be  here.    Of  course,  I  do." 

"Then  keep  cool.  Socato  take  him  round  to  place 
where  we  can  come  up  behind  bad  white  men.  We  try 
to  fool  'urn." 

"Good!" 

The  light  of  the  camp-fire  died  out,  and  then,  a  few 
moments  later,  another  camp-fire  seemed  to  glow  across 
a  strip  of  low  land. 

"See  it?"  whispered  the  Indian,  with  caution. 

"Yes.  What  party  is  camped  there — friends  of  yours, 
Socato?" 

"Not  much!" 

"Who,  then?" 

"That  same  fire." 

"Same  fire  as  which?" 

"One  bad  white  men  build." 

Frank  was  astonished. 

"Oh,  say!  how  is  that?  We  left  that  fire  behind  us, 
Socato." 

"And  we  have  come  round  by  the  water  till  it  is  before 
us  again." 

This  was  true,  but  the  darkness  had  been  so  intense 
that  Frank  did  not  see  how  their  course  was  changing. 

"I  see  how  you  mean  to  come  up  behind  them,"  said 
the  boy.  "You  are  going  to  land  and  cross  to  their 
camp." 

"That  right.    They  won't  look  for  us  that  way." 

"I  reckon  not." 

Soon  the  rushes  closed  in  on  either  side,  and  the  In 
dian  sent  the  canoe  twisting  in  and  out  amid  their  tall 
stalks  like  a  creeping  panther.  He  seemed  to  know 
every  inch  of  the  way,  and  followed  it  as  well  as  if  it 
were  broad  noonday. 

Frank's  admiration  for  the  fellow  grew  with  each 
moment,  and  he  felt  that  he  could,  indeed,  trust  Socato. 


172  Young  in  Years  Only. 

"If  we  save  that  girl  and  the  old  man,  you  shall  be 
well  paid  for  the  job,"  declared  the  boy,  feeling  that  it 
was  well  to  dangle  a  reward  before  the  Indian's  mental 
vision. 

"It  is  good,"  was  the  whispered  retort.  "Socato  is 
poor." 

In  a  few  moments  they  crept  through  the  rushes  till 
the  canoe  lay  close  to  a  bank,  and  the  Indian  directed 
Frank  to  get  out. 

The  camp-fire  could  not  be  seen  from  that  position,  but 
the  boy  well  knew  it  was  not  far  away. 

Taking  his  bow,  with  the  quiver  of  arrows  slung  to  his 
back,  the  lad  left  the  canoe,  being  followed  immediately 
by  the  Seminole,  who  lifted  the  prow  of  the  frail  craft 
out  upon  the  bank,  and  then  led  the  way. 

Passing  round  a  thick  mass  of  reeds,  they  soon  reached 
a  position  where  they  could  see  the  camp-fire  and  the 
moving  forms  of  the  sailors.  Just  as  they  reached  this 
position,  Leslie  Gage  was  seen  to  dash  up  to  the  fire  and 
kick  the  burning  brands  in  various  directions. 

"He  has  done  that  so  that  the  firelight  might  not  re 
veal  them  to  us,"  thought  Frank.  "They  still  believe  us 
near,  although  they  know  not  where  we  are." 

Crouching  and  creeping,  Socato  led  the  way,  and  Frank 
followed  closely,  wondering  what  scheme  the  Indian 
could  have  in  his  head,  yet  trusting  everything  to  his  sa 
gacity. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  near  enough  to  hear  the 
conversation  of  the  bewildered  and  alarmed  sailors.  The 
men  were  certain  a  band  of  savages  were  close  at  hand, 
for  they  did  not  dream  that  the  arrow  which  had  dropped 
Jaggers  was  fired  by  the  hand  of  a  white  person. 

"The  sooner  we  get  away  from  here,  the  better  it  will 
be  for  us,"  declared  Leslie  Gage. 

"We'll  have  to  get  away  in  the  boats,"  said  a  grizzled 
villainous-looking,  one-eyed  old  sailor,  who  was  known 
as  Ben  Bowsprit. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd's  sake!"  gasped  the  third  sailor,  who 
was  a  negro,  called  Black  Tom ;  "how's  we  gwine  to  run 
right  out  dar  whar  de  critter  am  dat  fired  de  arrer  inter 
Jack  Jaggers?" 

"The  'critter'  doesn't  seem  to  be  there  any  longer," 


Young  in  Years  Only.  173 

assured  Gage.  "Those  two  shots  must  have  frightened 
him  away." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Bowsprit.  "This  has  been  an 
unlucky  stop  fer  us,  mates.  Tomlinson  is  dead,  an'  Jag- 
gers " 

"I  ain't  dead,  but  I'm  bleedin',  bleedin',  bleedin'!" 
moaned  the  fellow  who  had  been  hit  by  Frank's  arrow. 
"There's  a  big  tear  in  my  shoulder,  an'  I'm  afeared  I've 
made  my  last  cruise." 

"It  serves  you  right,"  came  harshly  from  the  boy  leader 
of  the  ruffianly  crew.  "Tomlinson  attempted  to  set  him 
self  up  as  head  of  this  crew — as  captain  over  me.  You 
backed  him.  All  the  time,  you  knew  I  was  the  leader  in 
every  move  we  have  made." 

"And  a  pretty  pass  you  have  led  us  to!"  whined  the 
wounded  wretch.  "Where's  the  money  you  said  the 
captain  had  stored  away  ?  Where's  the  reward  we'd  re 
ceive  for  the  captain  alive  and  well?  We  turned  muti 
neers  at  your  instigation,  and  what  have  we  made  of  it? 
We've  set  the  law  agin'  us,  an'  here  we  are.  The  Bonny 
Elsie  has  gone  up  in  smoke " 

"Through  the  carelessness  of  a  lot  of  drunken  fools !" 
snarled  Gage.  "She  should  not  have  been  burned.  But 
for  that,  we  wouldn't  be  here  now,  hiding  from  officers 
of  the  law." 

"Well,  here  we  are,"  growled  Ben  Bowsprit,  "an' 
shiver  my  timbers  if  we  seem  able  to  get  out  of  this 
howlin'  swamp !  The  more  we  try,  the  more  we  seem 
ter  git  lost." 

"Fo'  goodness,  be  yo'  gwine  to  stan'  roun'  an'  chin, 
an'  chin,  an'  chin?"  demanded  Black  Tom. 

"The  fire's  out,  and  we  can't  be  seen,"  spoke  Gage, 
swiftly,  in  a  low  tone.  "Get  the  boats  ready.  You  two 
are  to  take  the  old  man  in  one;  I'll  take  the  girl  in  the 
ether." 

"It's  the  gal  you've  cared  fer  all  the  time,"  cried  Jag- 
gers,  madly.  "It  was  for  her  you  led  us  into  this 
scrape." 

"Shut  up!" 

"I  won't!    You  can't  make  me  shut  up,  Gage." 

"Well,  you'll  have  a  chance  to  talk  to  yourself  and 


174  Young  in  Years  Only. 

Tomlinson  before  long.  Tomlinson  will  be  jolly  com 
pany." 

"You've  killed  him!"  accused  the  wounded  man.  "I 
saw  you  strike  the  blow,  and  I'll  swear  to  that,  my 
hearty !" 

"It's  not  likely  you'll  be  given  a  chance  to  swear  to 
it,  Jaggers.  I  may  have  killed  him,  but  it  was  in  self- 
defense.  He  was  doing  his  best  to  get  his  knife  into  me." 

"Yes,  we  was  tryin'  to  finish  you,"  admitted  Jaggers. 
"With  you  out  of  the  way,  Tomlinson  would  have  been 
cap'n,  and  I  first  mate.  You've  kept  your  eyes  on  the  gal 
all  the  time.  I  don't  believe  you  thought  the  cap'n  had 
money  at  all.  It  was  to  get  the  gal  you  led  us  into  this 
business.  She'd  snubbed  you — said  she  despised  you, 
and  you  made  up  your  mind  to  carry  her  off  against  her 
will." 

"If  that  was  my  game,  you  must  confess  I  succeeded 
very  well.  But  I  can't  waste  more  time  talking  to  you. 
Get  the  boats  ready,  boys.  I  will  take  the  smaller.  Put 
Cap'n  Bellwood  in  the  larger,  and  look  out  for  him." 

The  two  sailors  obeyed  his  orders.  Boy  though  he 
was,  Gage  had  resolved  to  become  a  leader  of  men,  and 
he  had  succeeded. 

The  girl,  quite  overcome,  was  prostrate  at  the  feet  of 
her  father,  who  was  bound  to  the  cypress  tree. 

There  was  a  look  of  pain  and  despair  on  the  face 
of  the  old  captain.  His  heart  bled  as  he  looked  down 
at  his  wretched  daughter,  and  he  groaned : 

"Merciful  Heaven !  what  will  become  of  her  ?  It  were 
better  that  she  should  die  than  remain  in  the  power  of 
that  young  villain!" 

"What  are  you  muttering  about,  old  man?"  coarsely 
demanded  Gage,  as  he  bent  to  lift  the  girl.  "You  seem  to 
be  muttering  to  yourself  the  greater  part  of  the  time." 

"You  wretch !  you  young  monster !"  grated  the  old 
shipmaster.  "Do  you  think  you  can  escape  the  retribu 
tion  that  pursues  all  such  dastardly  creatures  as  you?" 

"Oh,  you  make  me  tired !  I  have  found  out  that  the 
goody-good  people  do  not  always  come  out  on  top  in 
this  world.  Besides  that,  it's  too  late  for  me  to  turn 
back  now.  I  started  wrong  at  school,  and  I  have  been 


Young  in  Years  Only.  175 

going  wrong  ever  since.  It's  natural  for  me;  I  can't 
help  it." 

"Spare  my  child !" 

"Oh,  don't  worry  about  her.    Ill  take  care  of  her." 

"If  you  harm  her,  may  the  wrath  of  Heaven  fall  on 
your  head !" 

"Let  it  go  at  that.  I  will  be  very  tender  and  consid 
erate  with  her.  Come,  Elsie." 

He  attempted  to  lift  her  to  her  feet,  but  she  drew  from 
him,  shuddering  and  screaming  wildly : 

"Don't  touch  me !" 

"Now,  don't  be  a  little  fool !"  he  said,  harshly.  "You 
make  me  sick  with  your  tantrums !  Come  on,  now." 

But  she  screamed  the  louder,  seeming  to  stand  in  the 
utmost  terror  of  him. 

With  a  savage  exclamation,  Gage  tore  off  his  coat 
and  wrapped  it  about  the  girl's  head  so  that  her  cries 
were  smothered. 

"Perhaps  that  will  keep  you  still  a  bit!"  he  snapped, 
catching  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  bearing  her  to  the 
smaller  boat,  in  which  he  carefully  placed  her. 

She  did  not  faint.  As  her  hands  were  bound  behind 
her,  she  could  not  remove  the  coat  from  about  her  head, 
and  she  sat  as  he  placed  her,  with  it  enveloping  her  nearly 
to  the  waist. 

"Is  everything  ready?"  asked  Gage.  "Where  are  all 
the  guns?  Somebody  take  Tomlinson's  weapons.  Let 
Jaggers  have  his.  He  may  need  them  when  we  are 
gone." 

"Don't  leave  me  here  to  die  alone!"  piteously  pleaded 
the  wounded  sailor.  "I'm  pretty  well  gone  now,  but  I 
don't  want  to  be  left  here  alone!" 

Gage  left  the  small  boat  for  a  moment,  and  approached 
the  spot  where  the  pleading  wretch  lay. 

"Jaggers,"  he  said,  "it's  the  fate  you  deserve.  You 
agreed  to  stand  by  me,  but  you  went  back  on  your  oath, 
and  tried  to  kill  me." 

"And  now  you're  going  to  leave  me  here  to  bleed  to 
death  or  starve?" 

"Why  shouldn't  I?  The  tables  are  turned  on  you,  my 
fine  fellow." 

"Well,  I'm  sure  you  won't  leave  me." 


176  Young  in  Years  Only. 

"You  are?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  won't  I?" 

"This  is  why  P 

Jaggers  flung  up  his  hand,  from  which  a  spout  of 
flame  seemed  to  leap,  and  the  report  of  a  pistol  sounded 
over  the  marsh. 

Leslie  Gage  fell  in  a  heap  to  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A     MYSTERIOUS    TRANSFORMATION. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  wildly  laughed  the  wounded  sailor. 
"That  time  he  did  not  escape !  Leave  me  to  die,  would 
he?  Well,  he  is  dead  already,  for  I  shot  him  through 
the  brain !" 

"That's  where  you  are  mistaken,  Jaggers,"  said  the 
cool  voice  of  the  boyish  leader  of  the  mutineers.  "I  saw 
your  move,  saw  the  revolver,  and  dropped  in  time  to 
avoid  the  bullet." 

Gage  sprang  to  his  feet. 

A  snarl  of  baffled  fury  came  from  the  lips  of  the 
wounded  sailor. 

"The  foul  fiend  protects  you!"  he  cried.  "See  if  you 
can  dodge  this  bullet!" 

He  would  have  fired  again,  but  Gage  leaped  forward 
in  the  darkness,  kicked  swiftly  and  accurately,  and  sent 
the  revolver  spinning  from  the  man's  hand. 

"You  have  settled  your  fate!"  hissed  the  boy,  madly. 
"I  did  mean  to  have  you  taken  away,  and  I  was  talking 
to  torment  you.  Now  you  will  stay  here — and  die  like 
a  dog!" 

He  turned  from  Jaggers,  and  hurried  back  to  the  boat, 
in  which  that  muffled  figure  silently  sat. 

"Are  you  ready,  boys?"  he  called. 

Captain  Bellwood  had  been  released  from  the  tree,  and 
marched  to  the  other  boat,  in  which  he  now  sat,  bound 
and  helpless. 

"All  ready,"  was  the  answer. 

"All  right ;  go  ahead." 

They  pushed  off,  settled  into  their  seats,  and  began 
rowing. 

Gage  was  not  long  in  following,  but  he  wondered  at  the 
silence  of  the  girl  who  sat  in  the  stern.  It  could  not  be 
that  she  had  fainted,  for  she  remained  in  an  upright 
position. 

"Which  way,  cap?"  asked  one  of  the  men. 


178        A  Mysterious  Transformation. 

"Any  way  to  get  out  of  this,"  was  the  answer.  "We 
will  find  another  place  to  camp,  but  I  want  to  get  away 
from  this  spot." 

Not  a  sound  came  from  beneath  the  muffled  coat. 

"It  must  be  close,"  thought  Gage.  "I  wonder  if  she 
can  breathe  all  right.  I  wish  she  would  do  something." 

At  last,  finding  he  could  keep  up  with  his  companions 
without  trouble,  and  knowing  he  would  have  very  little 
difficulty  in  overtaking  them,  Gage  drew  in  his  oars  and 
slipped  back  toward  the  muffled  figure  in  the  stem. 

"Elsie,"  he  said,  softly. 

No  answer;  no  move. 

"Miss   Bellwood." 

Still  no  answer. 

"You  must  not  think  too  hard  of  me,  Miss  Bellwood," 
he  said,  pleadingly.  "I  would  not  harm  you  for  any 
thing.  I  love  you  far  too  much  for  that,  Elsie." 

He  could  have  sworn  that  the  sound  which  came  from 
the  muffling  folds  of  the  coat  was  like  a  smothered  laugh, 
but  he  knew  she  was  not  laughing  at  him. 

"I  have  been  wicked  and  desperate,"  he  went  on;  "but 
I  was  driven  to  the  life  I  have  led.  Fate  has  been 
against  me  all  along.  When  I  shipped  on  your  father's 
vessel  it  was  because  I  had  seen  you  and  knew  you  were 
to  be  along  on  the  cruise.  I  loved  you  at  first  sight,  and 
I  vowed  that  I  would  reform  and  do  better  if  you  loved 
me  in  return,  Elsie." 

He  was  speaking  swiftly  in  a  low  tone,  and  his  voice 
betrayed  his  earnestness.  He  passed  an  arm  around  the 
muffled  figure,  feeling  it  quiver  within  his  grasp,  and  then 
he  continued : 

"You  did  not  take  kindly  to  me,  but  I  persisted.  Then 
you  repulsed  me — told  me  you  despised  me,  and  that 
made  me  desperate.  I  swore  I  would  have  you,  Elsie. 
Then  came  the  mutiny  and  the  burning  of  the  vessel. 
Now  we  are  here,  and  you  are  with  me.  Elsie,  you 
know  not  how  I  love  you !  I  have  become  an  outcast,  an 
outlaw — all  for  your  sake!  Elsie,  dear  Elsie!  can't  you 
learn  to  love  me?  I  will  do  anything  for  you — any 
thing!" 

Again  a  sound  came  from  beneath  the  coat.  He  was 
sure  she  was  sobbing.  It  must  be  that  he  was  beginning 


A  Mysterious  Transformation.        179 

tc  break  down  that  icy  barrier.  She  realized  her  posi-' 
tion,  and  she  would  be  reasonable. 

"Elsie— little  sweetheart !" 

He  began  to  remove  the  muffling  coat. 

"Do  not  scream,  Elsie — do  not  draw  away,  darling. 
Say  that  you  will  love  me  a  little — just  a  little !" 

He  pulled  the  coat  away,  and  something  came  out  of 
the  folds  and  touched  cold  and  chilling  against  his  fore 
head. 

It  was  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver ! 

"Keep  still !"  commanded  a  voice  that  was  full  of 
chuckling  laughter.  "If  you  chirp,  I'll  have  to  blow  the 
roof  of  your  head  off,  Gage !" 

Leslie  Gage  caught  his  breath  and  nearly  collapsed 
into  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  Indeed,  he  would  have 
fallen  had  not  a  strong  hand  fastened  on  his  collar  and 
held  him. 

It  was  not  Elsie  Bellwood! 

"I  don't  want  to  shoot  you,  Gage,"  whispered  the  cool 
voice.  "I  don't  feel  like  that,  even  though  you  did  at 
tempt  to  take  my  life  once  or  twice  in  the  past.  You 
have  made  me  very  good  natured  within  the  past  few 
moments.  How  you  did  love  me!  How  gently  you 
murmured,  'Do  not  draw  away,  darling;  say  that  you 
love  me  a  little — just  a  little!'  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Reafly, 
Gage,  you  gave  me  such  amusement  that  I  am  more  than 
satisfied  with  this  little  adventure." 

"That  voice — I  know  it!"  grated  Gage,  through  set 
teeth.  "Still,  I  can't  place  you." 

"Indeed,  you  are  forgetful,  Gage.  But  it  is  rather 
dark,  and  I  don't  suppose  you  expected  to  see  me  here. 
iWe  last  met  at  Fardale." 

"Fardale?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you  are — Frank  Merriwell!" 

Gage  would  have  shouted  the  name  in  his  amazement, 
but  Frank's  fingers  suddenly  closed  on  the  fellow's  throat 
and  held  back  the  sound  in  a  great  measure. 

"Now  you  have  guessed  it,"  chuckled  Frank.  "Oh, 
Gage !  .1  can  forgive  you  for  the  past  since  you  have 
provided  me  with  so  much  amusement  to-night.  How 


i8o       A  Mysterious  Transformation. 

you  urged  me  to  learn  to  love  you !  But  that's  too  much, 
Gage ;  I  can  never  learn  to  do  that." 

Leslie  ground  his  teeth,  but  he  was  still  overcome 
with  unutterable  amazement  and  wonder.  That  Frank 
Merriwell,  whom  he  hated,  should  appear  there  at  night 
in  the  wilds  of  the  Florida  Everglades  was  like  a  miracle. 

What  had  become  of  Elsie  Bellwood?  Had  some 
magic  of  that  wild  and  dreary  region  changed  her  into 
Frank  Merriwell?  i 

Little  wonder  that  Gage  was  dazed  and  helpless. 

"How  in  the  name  of  the  Evil  One  did  you  come 
here?"  he  finally  asked,  recovering  slightly  from  his 
stupor. 

Frank  laughed  softly  once  more.  It  was  the  same  old 
merry,  boyish  laugh  that  Gage  had  heard  so  often  at 
Fardale,  and  it  filled  him  with  intense  anger,  as  it  had  in 
the  days  of  old. 

"I  know  you  did  not  expect  to  see  me,"  murmured 
Frank,  still  laughing.  "I  assure  you  that  the  Evil  One 
had  nothing  to  do  with  my  appearance  here." 

"It  was  trickery — magic !  I  left  her  in  the  boat  a  few 
moments.  What  became  of  her?  How  did  you  take 
her  place?" 

"I  will  let  you  speculate  over  that  question  for  a 
while,  my  fine  fellow.  In  the  meantime,  I  fancy  it  will 
be  a  good  idea  to  tie  you  up  so  you  will  not  make  any 
trouble.  Remember  I  have  a  revolver  handy,  and  I 
promise  that  I'll  use  it  if  you  kick  up  a  row." 

At  this  moment,  one  of  the  sailors  in  the  other  boat 
called : 

"Hello,  there,  Mr.  Gage !    where  are  you  ?" 


CHAPTER  XXXni. 

GAGE    TAKES    A    TURN. 

I  Gage  was  tempted  to  shout  for  help,  but  the  muzzle 
of  the  cold  weapon  that  touched  his  forehead  froze  his 
tongue  to  silence. 

"Hello!    Ahoy,  there,  cap'n!    Where  are  you?" 

Ben  Bowsprit  was  growing  impatient  and  wondering 
why  Leslie  did  not  answer.  It  had  occurred  to  the  old  tar 
that  it  was  possible  the  boy  had  deserted  them. 

The  voice  of  Black  Tom  was  heard  to  say: 

"He  oughter  be  right  near  by  us,  Ben.  'Smighty 
strange  dat  feller  don'  seem  to  answer  nohow." 

"Shiver  my  timbers !"  roared  Bowsprit.  "We'll  pull 
back,  my  hearty,  and  take  a  look  for  our  gay  cap'n." 

They  were  coming  back,  and  Gage  was  still  unbound, 
although  a  captive  in  Frank  Merri well's  clutch. 

Frank  thought  swiftly.  There  would  not  be  enough 
time  to  bind  Gage  and  get  away.  Something  must  be 
done  to  prevent  the  two  sailors  from  turning  about  and 
rowing  back. 

"Gage,"  whispered  Frank,  swiftly,  "you  must  answer 
them.  Say,  it's  all  right,  boys;  I'm  coming  right  along." 

Gage  hesitated,  the  longing  to  shout  for  help  again 
grasping  him. 

"Do  as  I  told  you!"  hissed  Frank,  and  the  muzzle 
of  the  revolver  seemed  to  bore  into  Gage's  forehead,  as 
if  the  bullet  longed  to  seek  his  brain. 

With  a  mental  curse  on  the  black  luck,  Gage  uttered 
the  words  as  his  captor  had  ordered,  although  they 
seemed  to  come  chokingly  from  his  throat. 

"Well,  what  are  ye  doing  back  there  so  long?"  de 
manded  Bowsprit. 

"Tell  them  you're  making  love,"  chuckled  Frank,  who 
seemed  to  be  hugely  enjoying  the  affair,  to  the  unspeak 
able  rage  of  his  captive.  "Ask  them  if  they  don't  intend 
to  give  you  a  show  at  all." 


1 82  Gage  Takes  a  Turn. 

Gage  did  as  directed,  causing  Bowsprit  to  laugh 
hoarsely. 

"Oh,  you're  a  sly  dog!"  cackled  the  old  sailor,  in  the 
darkness.  "But  this  is  a  poor  time  to  spend  in  love- 
makin',  cap'n.  Wait  till  we  git  settled  down  ag'in.  Tom 
an'  me'll  agree  not  ter  watch  ye." 

"Say,  all  right ;  go  on,"  instructed  Frank,  and  Gage 
did  so. 

In  a  few  seconds,  the  sound  of  oars  were  heard,  indi 
cating  that  the  sailors  were  obeying  instructions. 

At  that  moment,  while  Frank  was  listening  to  this 
sound,  Gage  believed  his  opportunity  had  arrived,  and, 
being  utterly  desperate,  the  young  rascal  knocked  aside 
Frank's  hand,  gave  a  wild  shout,  leaped  to  his  feet,  and 
plunged  headlong  into  the  water. 

It  was  done  swiftly — too  swiftly  for  Frank  to  shoot, 
if  he  had  intended  such  a  thing.  But  Frank  Merriwell 
had  no  desire  to  shoot  his  former  schoolmate,  even 
though  Leslie  Gage  had  become  a  hardened  and  des 
perate  criminal,  and  so,  having  broken  away,  the  youth 
ful  leader  of  the  mutineers  stood  in  no  danger  of  being 
harmed. 

Frank  and  Socato  had  been  close  at  hand  when  Gage 
placed  Elsie  Bellwood  in  the  boat,  and  barely  was  the 
girl  left  alone  before  she  was  removed  by  the  Seminole, 
in  whose  arms  she  lay  limp  and  unconscious,  having 
swooned  at  last. 

Then  it  was  that  a  desire  to  capture  Gage  and  a 
wild  longing  to  give  the  fellow  a  paralyzing  surprise 
seized  upon  Frank. 

"Socato,"  he  whispered,  "I  am  going  to  trust  you  to 
take  that  girl  to  the  hut  where  my  friends  are  to  be 
found.  Remember  that  you  shall  be  well  paid ;  I  give 
you  my  word  of  honor  as  to  that.  See  that  no  harm 
comes  to  her." 

"All  right,"  returned  the  Indian.  "What  white  boy 
mean  to  do?" 

"Have  a  little  racket  on  my  own  hook,"  was  the  reply. 
"If  I  lose  my  bearings  and  can't  find  the  hut,  I  will  fire 
five  shots  into  the  air  from  my  revolver.  Have  one  of 
my  friends  answer  in  a  similar  manner." 

"It  shall  be  done." 


Gage  Takes  a  Turn.  183 

"Give  me  that  coat.  All  right.  Now  skip  with  the 
girl." 

Frank  took  the  coat,  stepped  into  the  boat,  watched 
till  Gage  was  approaching,  and  then  muffled  his  head,  sit 
ting  in  the  place  where  Elsie  had  been  left. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Seminole  was  bearing  the  girl 
swiftly  and  silently  away. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Gage  made  love  to  Frank 
Merriwell,  instead  of  the  fair  captive  he  believed  was 
muffled  by  the  coat. 

When  Gage  plunged  into  the  water,  the  small  boat 
rocked  and  came  near  upsetting,  but  did  not  go  over. 

But  the  fellow's  cry  and  the  splash  had  brought  the 
sailors  to  a  halt,  and  they  soon  called  back: 

"What's  the  matter?    What  has  happened?" 

"I  rather  fancy  it  will  be  a  good  plan  to  make  myself 
scarce  in  this  particular  locality,"  muttered  Frank. 

Gage  swam  under  water  for  some  distance,  and  then, 
coming  to  the  surface,  he  shouted  to  the  men  in  the 
leading  boat: 

"Bowsprit,  Black  Tom,  help!  Turn  back  quickly! 
There  is  an  enemy  here,  but  he  is  alone!  We  can  cap 
ture  him,  boys !  Be  lively  about  it !" 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  Frank,  merrily.  "You  will 
have  a  fine  time  catching  me.  You  have  given  me  great 
amusement,  Gage.  I  assure  you  that  I  have  been  highly 
entertained  by  your  company,  and  hereafter  I  shall  con 
sider  you  an  adept  in  the  gentle  art  of  making  love." 

"Laugh !"  fiercely  shouted  Gage  from  the  water. 
"You  are  having  your  turn  now,  but  mine  will  soon 
come !" 

"I  have  heard  you  talk  like  that  before,  Gage.  It 
'does  not  seem  that  you  have  yet  learned  'the  way  of  the 
transgressor  is  hard.' " 

"You'll  learn  better  than  to  meddle  with  me!  I  have 
longed  to  meet  you  again,  Frank  Merriwell,  and  I  tell 
you  now  that  one  of  us  will  not  leave  this  swamp  alive !" 

"This  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  made  a  promise 
that  you  were  not  able  to  keep.  Before  I  leave  you,  I 
have  this  to  say :  If  Captain  Bellwood  is  harmed  in  the 
least,  if  he  is  not  set  at  liberty  with  very  little  delay. 


1 84  Gage  Takes  a  Turn. 

I'll  never  rest  till  you  have  received  the  punishment 
which  your  crimes  merit." 

Frank  could  hear  the  sailors  rowing  back,  and  he  felt 
for  the  oars,  having  no  doubt  that  he  would  be  able  to 
escape  them  with  ease,  aided  by  the  darkness. 

Then  came  a  surprise  for  him. 

When  Gage  stopped  rowing  to  make  love  to  the  sup 
posed  Elsie  he  had  left  the  oars  in  the  rowlocks,  drawing 
them  in  and  laying  them  across  the  boat.  In  the  violent 
rocking  of  the  boat  when  the  fellow  leaped  overboard 
one  of  the  oars  had  been  lost. 

Frank  was  left  with  a  single  oar,  and  his  enemies  were 
bearing  down  upon  him  with  great  swiftness. 

"I  wonder  if  there's  a  chance  to  scull  this  boat?"  he 
coolly  speculated,  as  he  hastened  to  the  stern  and  made 
a  swift  examination. 

To  his  satisfaction  and  relief,  he  found  there  was,  and 
the  remaining  oar  was  quickly  put  to  use. 

Even  then  Frank  felt  confident  that  he  would  be  able 
to  avoid  his  enemies  in  the  darkness  that  lay  deep  and 
dense  upon  the  great  swamp.  He  could  hear  them  row 
ing,  and  he  managed  to  skull  the  light  boat  along  without 
making  much  noise. 

He  did  not  mind  that  Gage  had  escaped;  in  fact,  he 
was  relieved  to  get  rid  of  the  fellow,  although  it  had 
been  his  intention  to  hold  him  as  hostage  for  Captain 
Bellwood. 

It  was  the  desire  for  adventure  that  had  led  Frank 
into  the  affair,  and,  now  that  it  was  over  so  far  as  sur 
prising  Gage  was  concerned,  he  was  satisfied  to  get  away 
quietly. 

He  could  hear  the  sailors  calling  Gage,  who  answered 
from  the  water,  and  he  knew  they  would  stop  to  pick  the 
fellow  up,  which  would  give  our  hero  a  still  better  show 
of  getting  away. 

All  this  took  place,  and  Frank  was  so  well  hidden  by 
the  darkness  that  there  was  not  one  chance  in  a  thou 
sand  of  being  troubled  by  the  ruffianly  crew  when  an 
other  astonishing  thing  happened. 

From  a  point  amid  the  tall  rushes  a  powerful  white 
light  gleamed  out  and  fell  full  and  fair  upon  the  small 


Gage  Takes  a  Turn.  185 

boat  and  its  single  occupant,  revealing  Frank  as  plainly 
as  if  by  the  glare  of  midday  sunlight. 

"Great  Scott!"  gasped  the  astonished  boy.  "What  is 
the  meaning  of  this,  I  would  like  to  know  ?" 

He  was  so  astonished  that  he  nearly  dropped  the  oar. 

The  sailors  were  astonished,  but  the  light  showed 
them  distinctly,  and  Gage  snarled. 

"Give  me  your  pistol,  Bowsprit !    Be  lively !" 

He  snatched  the  weapon  from  the  old  tar's  hand,  took 
hasty  aim,  and  fired. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  seen  to  fling  up  his  arms  and  fall 
heavily  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

A     FEARFU  L     FATE. 

"Got  him !"  grated  the  triumphant  young  rascal,  flour 
ishing  the  revolver.  "That's  the  time  I  fixed  him !" 

The  mysterious  light  vanished  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye,  but  it  had  shone  long  enough  for  Gage  to  do  his 
dastardly  work. 

The  sailors  were  alarmed  by  the  light,  and  wished  to 
row  away;  but  Gage  raved  at  them,  ordering  them  to 
pull  down  toward  the  spot  where  the  other  boat  lay. 

After  a  time,  the  men  recovered  enough  to  do  as  di 
rected,  and  the  smaller  boat  was  soon  found,  rocking 
lightly  on  the  surface. 

Running  alongside,  Gage  reached  over  into  the  small 
boat,  and  his  hand  found  the  boy  who  was  stretched  in 
the  bottom. 

"Here  he  is !"  cried  the  young  rascal,  gleefully.  "I'll 
bet  anything  I  put  the  bullet  straight  through  his  heart !" 

And  then,  as  if  his  own  words  had  brought  a  sense  of 
it  all  to  him,  he  suddenly  shuddered  with  horror,  faintly 
muttering : 

"That  was  murder!" 

The  horror  grew  upon  him  rapidly,  and  he  began  to 
wonder  that  he  had  felt  delight  when  he  saw  Frank  Mer- 
riwell  fall.  The  shooting  had  been  the  impulse  of  the 
moment,  and,  now  that  it  was  done  and  he  realized  what 
it  meant,  he  would  have  given  much  to  recall  that  bul 
let. 

"Never  mind,"  he  thought.  "I  swore  that  one  of  us 
should  not  leave  this  swamp  alive,  and  my  oath  will  not 
be  broken.  I  hated  Frank  Merriwell  the  first  time  I  saw 
him,  and  I  have  hated  him  ever  since.  Now  he  is  out 
of  my  way,  and  he  will  never  cross  my  path  again." 

There  was  a  slight  stir  in  the  small  boat,  followed  by; 
something  like  a  gasping  moan. 

"He  don't  seem  to  be  dead  yet,  cap'n,"  said  Ben  Bow 
sprit.  "I  guess  your  aim  wasn't  as  good  as  you  thought." 


A  Fearful  Fate.  187 

That  nettled  Gage. 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  he'll  recover  very  fast,"  said  the 
youthful  rascal,  harshly. 

He  rose  and  stepped  over  into  the  smaller  boat. 

"Gire  me  some  matches,"  he  ordered.  "I  want  to  take 
a  look  at  the  chap.  He  must  make  a  beautiful  corpse." 

"You'll  find  I'm  not  dead  yet !"  returned  a  weak  voice, 
and  Frank  Merriwell  sat  up  and  grappled  with  Gage. 

A  snarl  of  fury  came  from  the  lips  of  the  boy  des 
perado. 

"So  I  didn't  finish  you!    Well,  you'll  not  get  away!** 

"You'll  have  to  fight  before  you  finish  me!"  panted 
Frank. 

But  Merriwell  seemed  weak,  and  Gage  did  not  find  it 
difficult  to  handle  the  lad  at  whom  he  had  shot.  He 
forced  Frank  down  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  then 
called  to  his  companions : 

"Give  me  some  of  that  line.    I'll  make  him  fast." 

A  piece  of  rope  was  handed  to  him,  and  Black  Tom 
stepped  into  the  boat  to  aid  him.  Between  them,  they 
succeeded  in  making  Frank  fast,  for  the  boy's  struggles 
were  weak,  at  best. 

"Now  it  is  my  turn  !"  cried  Leslie,  gloatingly.  "At  Far- 
dale  Frank  Merriwell  triumphed.  He  disgraced  me,  and 
I  was  forced  to  fly  from  the  school." 

"You  disgraced  yourself,"  declared  the  defiant  cap 
tive.  "You  cheated  at  cards — you  fleeced  your  school 
mates." 

"And  you  exposed  the  trick!  Oh,  yes,  I  was  rather 
flip  with  the  papers,  and  I  should  not  have  been  detected 
but  for  you,  Merriwell.  When  I  was  exposed,  I  knew 
I  would  be  shunned  by  all  the  fellows  in  school,  and  so 
I  ran  away.  But  I  did  not  forget  who  brought  the  dis 
grace  about,  and  I  knew  we  should  meet  some  time,  Mer 
riwell.  We  did  meet.  How  you  came  here  I  do  not 
know,  and  why  my  bullet  did  not  kill  you  is  more  than 
I  can  understand." 

"It  would  have  killed  me  but  for  a  locket  and  picture 
in  my  pocket,"  returned  Frank.  "It  struck  the  locket, 
and  that  saved  me;  but  the  shock  robbed  me  of  strength 


1 88  A  Fearful  Fate. 

— it  must  have  robbed  me  of  consciousness  for  a  mo 
ment." 

"It  would  have  been  just  as  well  for  you  if  the  locket 
had  not  stopped  the  bullet,"  declared  Gage,  fiercely. 

"By  that  I  presume  you  mean  that  you  intend  to  mur 
der  me  anyway?" 

"I  have  sworn  that  one  of  us  shall  never  leave  this 
swamp  alive." 

"Go  ahead,  Gage,"  came  coolly  from  the  lips  of  the 
captive.  "Luck  seems  to  have  turned  your  way.  Make 
the  most  of  it  while  you  have  an  opportunity." 

"We  can't  spend  time  in  gabbing  here,"  came  nervously 
from  Bowsprit.  "Let's  get  away  immediately." 

"Yes,"  put  in  Black  Tom;  "fo'  de  Lawd's  sake,  le's 
get  away  before  dat  light  shine  some  mo' !" 

"That's  right,"  said  the  old  tar.  "Some  things  hap 
pen  in  this  swamp  that  no  human  being  can  account  for." 

Gage  was  ready  enough  to  get  away,  and  they  were 
soon  pulling  onward  again,  with  Frank  Merriwell,  bound 
and  helpless,  in  the  bottom  of  the  smaller  boat. 

For  nearly  an  hour  they  rowed,  and  then  they  suc 
ceeded  in  finding  some  dry,  solid  land  where  they  could 
camp  beneath  the  tall,  black  trees. 

They  were  so  overcome  with  alarm  that  they  did  not 
venture  to  build  a  fire,  for  all  that  Gage  was  shivering  in 
his  wet  clothes. 

Leslie  was  still  puzzling  over  Frank  Merriwell's  as 
tonishing  appearance,  and  he  tried  to  question  Frank 
concerning  it,  but  he  could  obtain  but  little  satisfaction 
from  the  boy  he  hated. 

The  night  passed,  and  morning  came. 

Away  to  the  west  stretched  the  Everglades,  while  to 
the  north  and  the  east  lay  the  dismal  cypress  swamps. 

The  party  seemed  quite  alone  in  the  heart  of  the  deso 
late  region. 

Leslie  started  out  to  explore  the  strip  of  elevated  land 
upon  which  they  had  passed  the  night,  and  he  found  it 
stretched  back  into  the  woods,  where  lay  great  stagnant 
pools  of  water  and  where  grew  all  kinds  of  strange  plants 
and  vines. 

Gage  had  been  from  the  camp  about  thirty  minutes 


A  Fearful  Fate.  189 

when  he  came  running  back,  his  face  pale,  and  a  fierce 
look  in  his  eyes. 

"I  have  heard  of  it!"  he  kept  muttering.  "I  have 
heard  of  it!  I  have  heard  of  it!" 

"Avast  there!"  cried  Bowsprit,  with  an  attempt  at 
cheerfulness.  "What  are  you  muttering  over?  What 
is  it  you  have  heard  about,  my  hearty?" 

"The  serpent  vine,"  answered  Gage,  wildly. 

"What  is  the  serpent  vine?" 

"You  shall  see.  I  did  not  believe  there  was  such  a 
thing,  but  it  tangled  my  feet,  it  tried  to  twine  about  my 
legs,  and  I  saw  the  little  red  flowers  opening  and  shut 
ting  like  the  lips  of  devils." 

"Fo'  de  Lawd's  sake!  de  boss  hab  gone  stark,  starin* 
mad!"  cried  Black  Tom,  staring  at  Leslie  with  bulging 
eyes. 

"Not  much!"  shouted  Leslie,  hoarsely.  "But  I  have 
thought  of  a  way  to  dispose  of  Frank  Merriwell.  I  will 
feed  him  to  the  serpent  vine!  Ah,  that  will  be  re 
venge  !" 

Frank  had  listened  to  all  this,  and  he  noted  that  Gage 
actually  seemed  like  a  maniac. 

Captain  Bellwood,  securely  bound,  was  near  Frank, 
to  whom  he  now  spoke: 

"God  pity  you,  my  lad!  He  was  bad  enough  before, 
but  he  seems  to  have  gone  mad.  He  will  murder  you!" 

"Well,  if  that's  to  be  the  end  of  me,  I'll  have  to  take 
my  medicine,"  came  grimly  from  the  lips  of  the  un 
daunted  boy  captive. 

"My  child?"  entreated  the  captain,  anxiously.  "What 
became  of  her?  Can  you  tell  me?  Where  is  she  now?" 

"She  is  safe,  I  believe.  She  is  with  friends  of  mine, 
and  they  will  fight  for  her  as  long  as  they  are  able  to 
draw  a  breath." 

"Thank  Heaven!  Now  I  care  not  if  these  wretches 
murder  me!" 

"I  scarcely  think  they  will  murder  you,  captain.  They 
have  nothing  in  particular  against  you;  but  Gage  hates 
me  most  bitterly." 

"That's   right!"   snarled   Leslie,   who  had   overheard 


I9O  A  Fearful  Fate. 

Frank's  last  words.  "I  do  hate  you,  and  my  hatred 
seems  to  have  increased  tenfold  since  last  night.  I  have 
been  thinking — thinking  how  you  have  baffled  me  at 
every  turn  whenever  we  have  come  together.  I  have 
decided  that  you  are  my  evil  genius,  and  that  I  shaH 
never  have  any  luck  as  long  as  you  live.  I  shall  keep 
'  my  oath.  One  of  us  will  not  kave  this  swamp  alive,  and 
you  will  be  that  one!" 

"Go  ahead  with  the  funeral,"  said  Frank,  stoutly.  "If 
you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  murder  me,  I  can't  help 
myself;  but  one  thing  is  sure — you'll  not  hear  me  beg." 

"Wait  till  you  know  what  your  fate  is  to  be.  Boys, 
set  his  feet  free,  and  then  follow  me,  with  him  between 
you." 

The  cords  which  held  Frank's  feet  were  released,  and 
he  was  lifted  to  a  standing  position.  Then  he  was 
marched  along  after  Gage,  who  led  the  way. 

"Good-by,"  Frank  called  back. 

Into  the  woods  he  was  marched,  and  finally  Gage  came 
to  a  halt,  motioning  for  the  others  to  stop. 

"Look !"  he  cried,  pointing ;  "there  is  the  serpent  vine !" 

On  the  ground  before  them,  lay  a  mass  of  greenish 
vines,  blossoming  over  with  a  dark  red  flower.  Harm 
less  enough  they  looked,  but,  as  Gage  drew  a  little  nearer, 
they  suddenly  seemed  to  come  to  life,  and  they  began 
reaching  toward  his  feet,  twisting,  squirming,  undulat 
ing  like  a  mass  of  serpents. 

"There !"  shouted  Leslie — "there  is  the  vine  that  feeds 
on  flesh  and  blood!  See — see  how  it  reached  for  my 
feet !  It  longs  to  grasp  me,  to  draw  me  into  its  folds,  to 
twine  about  my  body,  my  neck,  to  strangle  me !" 

The  sailors  shuddered  and  drew  back,  while  Frank 
Merriwell's  face  was  very  pale. 

"It  did  fasten  upon  me,"  Gage  continued.  "If  I  had 
not  been  ready  and  quick  with  my  knife,  it  would  have 
drawn  me  into  its  deadly  embrace.  I  managed  to  cut 
myself  free  and  escape." 

Then  he  turned  to  Frank,  and  the  dancing  light  in  his 
eyes  was  not  a  light  of  sanity. 

"Merriwell,"  he  said,  "the  serpent  vine  will  end  your 
life,  and  you'll  never  bother  me  any  morel" 


A  Fearful  Fate.  191 

He  leaped  forward  and  clutched  the  helpless  captive, 
screaming : 

"Thus  I  keep  my  promise!" 

And  he  flung  Frank  headlong  into  the  clutch  of  tke 
writhing  vine! 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE     SERPENT     VINE. 

With  his  hands  bound  behind  his  back,  unable  to  help 
himself,  Frank  reeled  forward  into  the  embrace  of  the 
deadly  vine,  each  branch  of  which  was  twisting,  curling, 
squirming  like  the  arms  of  an  octopus. 

He  nearly  plunged  forward  upon  his  face,  but  man 
aged  to  recover  and  keep  on  his  feet. 

He  felt  the  vine  whip  about  his  legs  and  fasten  there 
tenaciously,  felt  it  twist  and  twine  and  crawl  like  a  mass 
of  serpents,  and  he  knew  he  was  in  the  grasp  of  the 
frightful  plant  which  till  that  hour  he  had  ever  believed 
a  creation  of  some  romancer's  feverish  fancy. 

Frank  did  not  cry  out.  A  great  horror  seemed  to  come 
upon  him  and  benumb  his  body  and  his  senses. 

He  could  feel  the  horrid  vines  climbing  and  coiling 
about  him,  and  he  was  helpless  to  struggle  and  tear  them 
away.  He  knew  they  were  mounting  to  his  neck,  where 
they  would  curl  about  his  throat  and  choke  the  breath 
of  life  from  his  body. 

It  was  a  fearful  fate — a  terrible  death.  And  there 
seemed  no  possible  way  of  escaping. 

Higher  and  higher  climbed  the  vine,  swaying  and 
squirming,  the  blood-red  flowers  opening  and  closing  like 
lips  of  a  vampire  that  thirsted  for  his  blood. 

A  look  of  horror  was  frozen  on  Frank's  face.  His 
eyes  bulged  from  his  head,  and  his  lips  were  drawn  back 
from  his  teeth.  He  did  not  cry  out,  he  did  not  seem  to 
breathe,  but  he  appeared  to  be  turned  to  stone  in  the 
grasp  of  the  deadly  plant. 

It  was  a  dreadful  sight,  and  the  two  sailors,  rough 
and  wicked  men  though  they  were,  were  overcome  by 
the  spectacle.  Shuddering  and  gasping,  they  turned 
away. 

For  the  first  time,  Gage  seemed  to  fully  realize  what 
he  had  done.  He  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and 
staggered  backward,  uttering  a  low,  groaning  sound. 


The  Serpent  Vine.  193 

Merriwell's  staring  eyes  seemed  fastened  straight  upon 
him  with  that  fearful  stare,  and  the  thought  flashed 
through  the  mind  of  the  wretched  boy  that  he  should 
never  forget  those  eyes. 

"They  will  haunt  me  as  long  as  I  live!"  he  panted* 
"Why  did  I  do  it?  Why  did  I  do  it?" 

Already  he  was  seized  by  the  pangs  of  remorse. 

Once  more  he  looked  at  Frank,  and  once  more  those 
staring  eyes  turned  his  blood  to  ice  water. 

Then,  uttering  shriek  after  shriek,  Gage  turned  and 
fled  through  the  swamp,  plunging  through  marshy  places 
and  jungles,  falling,  scrambling  up,  leaping,  staggering, 
gasping  for  breath,  feeling  those  staring  eyes  at  his 
back,  feeling  that  they  would  pursue  him  to  his  doom. 

Scarcely  less  agitated  and  overcome,  Bowsprit  and  the 
negro  followed,  and  Frank  Merriwell  was  abandoned  to 
his  fate. 

Frank  longed  for  the  use  of  his  hands  to  tear  away 
those  fiendish  vines.  It  was  a  horrible  thing  to  stand  and 
let  them  creep  up,  up,  up,  till  they  encircled  his  throat 
and  strangled  him  to  death. 

Through  his  mind  flashed  a  picture  of  himself  as  he 
would  stand  there  with  the  vines  drawing  tighter  and 
tighter  about  his  throat  and  his  face  growing  blacker  and 
blacker,  his  tongue  hanging  out,  his  eyes  starting  from 
their  sockets. 

He  came  near  shrieking  for  help,  but  the  thought  that 
the  cry  must  reach  the  ears  of  Leslie  Gage  kept  it  back, 
enabled  him  to  choke  it  down. 

He  had  declared  that  Gage  should  not  hear  him  beg  for 
mercy  or  aid.  Not  even  the  serpent  vine  and  all  its 
horrors  could  make  him  forget  that  vow. 

The  little  red  flowers  were  getting  nearer  and  nearer 
to  his  face,  and  they  were  fluttering  with  eagerness.  He 
felt  a  sucking,  drawing,  stinging  sensation  on  one  of  his 
wrists,  and  he  believed  one  of  those  fiendish  vampire 
mouths  had  fastened  there. 

He  swayed  his  body,  he  tried  to  move  his  feet,  but 
he  seemed  rooted  to  the  ground.  He  did  not  have 
the  strength  to  drag  himself  from  that  fatal  spot  and 
from  the  grasp  of  the  vine. 

It  seemed  that  hours  passed.     His  senses  were  in  a 


194  The  Serpent  Vine. 

maze,  and  the  whole  world  was  reeling  and  romping 
around  him.  The  trees  became  a  band  of  giant  demons, 
winking,  blinking,  grinning  at  him,  flourishing  their 
arms  in  the  air,  and  dancing  gleefully  on  every  side  to 
the  sound  of  wild  music  that  came  from  far  away  in  the 
sky. 

Then  a  smaller  demon  darted  out  from  amid  the  trees, 
rushed  at  him,  clutched  him,  slashed,  slashed,  slashed  on 
I  every  side  of  him,  dragged  at  his  collar,  and  panted  in 
his  ear: 

"White  boy  fight — try  to  git  away!  His  hands  are 
free." 

Was  it  a  dream — was  it  an  hallucination?  No!  his 
hands  were  free!  He  tore  at  the  clinging  vines,  he 
fought  with  all  his  remaining  strength,  he  struggled  to 
get  away  from  those  clinging  things. 

All  the  while  that  other  figure  was  slashing  and  cut 
ting  with  something  bright,  while  the  vine  writhed  and 
hissed  like  serpents  in  agony. 

How  it  was  accomplished  Frank  could  never  tell,  but 
he  felt  himself  dragged  free  of  the  serpent  vine,  dragged 
beyond  its  deadly  touch,  and  he  knew  it  was  no  dream 
that  he  was  free ! 

A  black  mist  hung  before  his  eyes,  but  he  looked 
through  it  and  faintly  murmured : 

"Socato,  you  have  saved  me !" 

"Yes,  white  boy,"  replied  the  voice  of  the  Seminole,  "I 
found  you  just  in  time.  A  few  moments  more  and  you 
be  a  dead  one." 

"That  is  true,  Socato — that  is  true!  I  owe  you  my 
very  life !  I  can  never  pay  you  for  what  you  have  done !" 

In  truth  the  Indian  had  appeared  barely  in  time  to 
rescue  Frank  from  the  vine,  and  it  had  been  a  desperate 
and  exhausting  battle.  In  another  minute  the  vine  would 
have  accomplished  its  work. 

"I  hear  white  boy  cry  out,  and  I  see  him  run  from  this 
way,"  explained  the  Seminole.  "He  look  scared  very 
much.  Sailor  men  follow,  and  then  I  come  to  see  what 
scare  them  so.  I  find  you." 

"It  was  Providence,  Socato.  You  knew  how  to  fight 
the  vine — how  to  cut  it  with  your  knife,  and  so  you 
saved  me." 


The  Serpent  Vine.  195 

"We  must  git  'way  from  here  soon  as  can,"  declared 
the  Indian.  "Bad  white  men  may  not  come  back,  and 
they  may  come  back.  They  may  want  to  see  what  has 
happen  to  white  boy." 

Frank  knew  this  was  true,  but  for  some  time  he  was 
not  able  to  get  upon  his  feet  and  walk.  At  length  the 
Indian  assisted  him,  and,  leaning  on  Socato's  shoulder, 
he  made  his  way  along. 

Avoiding  the  place  where  the  sailors  were  camped, 
the  Seminole  proceeded  directly  to  the  spot  where  his 
canoe  was  hidden.  Frank  got  in,  and  Socato  took  the 
paddle,  sending  the  light  craft  skimming  over  the  water. 

Straight  to  the  strange  hut  where  Frank  and  his  com 
panions  had  stopped  the  previous  night  they  made  their 
way. 

The  sun  was  shining  into  the  heart  of  the  great  Dismal 
Swamp,  and  Elsie  Bellwood  was  at  the  door  to  greet 
Frank  Merriwell. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

RIGHT  OR  WRONG. 

Elsie  held  out  both  hands,  and  there  was  a  welcome 
light  in  her  eyes.  It  seemed  to  Frank  that  she  was  far 
prettier  than  when  he  had  last  seen  her  in  Fardale. 

"Frank,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you !" 

He  caught  her  hands  and  held  them,  looking  into  her 
eyes.  The  color  came  into  her  cheeks,  and  then  she 
noted  his  rumpled  appearance,  saw  that  he  was  very 
pale,  and  cried: 

"What  is  it,  Frank?  You  are  hurt?  You  are  so 
pale!' 

Socato  grunted  in  a  knowing  way,  but  said  nothing. 

"It  is  nothing,  Miss  Bellwood,"  assured  the  boy.  "I 
have  been  through  a  little  adventure^  that's  all.  I  am 
not  harmed." 

He  felt  her  fingers  trembling  in  his  clasp,  and  an  elec 
tric  thrill  ran  over  him.  He  remembered  that  at  their 
last  parting  she  had  said  it  were  far  better  they  should 
never  meet  again;  but  fate  had  thrown  them  together, 
and  now — what? 

He  longed  to  draw  her  to  him,  to  kiss  her,  to  tell  her 
how  happy  he  was  at  finding  her,  but  he  restrained  the 
impulse. 

Then  the  voice  of  Barney  Mulloy  called  from  within 
the  hut: 

"Phwat  ye  goin'  to  do  me  b'y — shtand  out  there  th' 
rist  av  th'  doay?  Whoy  don't  yez  come  in,  Oi  dunno?" 

"Come  in,  Frank — come  in,"  cried  Professor  Scotch. 
"We  have  been  worried  to  death  over  you.  Thought  you 
were  lost  in  the  Everglades,  or  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy." 

"Your  second  thought  was  correct,"  smiled  Frank,  as 
he  entered  the  hut,  with  Elsie  at  his  side. 

"Phwat's  thot?"  shouted  the  Irish  boy,  in  astonish 
ment.  "Ye  don't  mane  to  say  thim  spalpanes  caught 
yez?"" 


Right  or  Wrong.  197 

"That's  what  they  did,  and  they  came  near  cooking 
me,  too." 

Frank  then  related  the  adventures  that  had  befallen, 
him  since  he  started  out  on  his  own  hook  to  give  Leslie 
Gage  a  surprise.  He  told  how  Gage  had  made  love  to 
him  in  the  boat,  and  Barney  shrieked  with  laughter. 
Then  he  related  what  followed,  and  how  his  life  had 
been  saved  by  the  locket  he  carried,  and  the  professor 
groaned  with  dismay.  Following  this,  he  related  his 
capture  by  Gage  and  how  the  young  desperado  flung  him, 
with  his  hands  bound,  into  the  clutch  of  the  serpent 
vine. 

The  narrative  first  amused  and  then  thrilled  his  lis 
teners.  Finally  they  were  horrified  and  appalled  by  the 
peril  through  which  he  had  passed. 

"It's  Satan's  own  scum  thot  Gage  is !"  grated  Barney, 
fiercely.  "Iver  let  me  get  a  crack  at  th'  loike  av  him  and 
see  phwat  will  happen  to  th'  whilp !" 

"I  hate  and  despise  him!"  declared  Elsie.  "He  is  a 
monster !" 

Then  Frank  explained  how  he  had  been  saved  by 
Socato,  and  the  Seminole  found  himself  the  hero  of  the 
hour. 

"Soc,  ould  b'y,"  cried  Barney,  "thot  wur  th'  bist  job  ye 
iver  did,  an'  Oi'm  proud  av  yez !  Ye'll  niver  lose  any 
thing  by  thot  thrick,  ayther." 

"Not  much!"  roared  the  little  professor,  wiping  his 
eyes.  "Man,  give  me  your  hand!" 

Then  the  Seminole  had  his  hand  shaken  in  a  manner 
and  with  a  heartiness  that  astonished  him  greatly. 

"That  was  nothing,"  he  declared,  "Socato  hates  the 
snake  vine — fight  it  any  time.  Don't  make  so  much 
row." 

When  all  had  been  told  and  the  party  had  recovered 
from  the  excitement  into  which  they  had  been  thrown, 
Barney  announced  that  breakfast  was  waiting. 

Elsie,  for  all  of  her  happiness  at  meeting  Frank,  was 
so  troubled  about  her  father  that  she  could  eat  very  lit 
tle. 

Socato  ate  hastily,  and  then  announced  that  he  would 
go  out  and  see  what  he  could  do  about  rescuing  Captain 
Bellwood. 


198  Right  or  Wrong. 

Barney  wished  to  go  with  the  Seminole,  but  Socato 
declared  that  he  could  do  much  better  alone,  and  hur 
riedly  departed. 

Then  Frank  did  his  best  to  cheer  Elsie,  telling  her  that 
everything  was  sure  to  come  out  all  right,  as  the  Indian 
could  be  trusted  to  outwit  the  desperadoes  and  rescue 
the  captain. 

Seeing  Frank  and  Elsie  much  together,  Barney  drew 
the  professor  aside,  and  whispered  : 

"It's  a  bit  av  a  walk  we'd  better  take  in  th'  open  air, 
Oi  think." 

"But  I  don't  need  a  walk,"  protested  the  little  man. 

"Yis  ye  do,  profissor,"  declared  the  Irish  boy,  soberly. 
"A  man  av  your  studious  habits  nivver  takes  ixercoise 
enough." 

"But  I  do  not  care  to  expose  myself  outdoors." 

"Phwat's  th'  matther  wid  out  dures,  Oi  dunno?" 

"It's  dangerous." 

"How?" 

"There's  danger  that  Gage  and  his  gang  will  appear." 

"Phwat  av  they  do?  We  can  get  back  here  aheed  av 
thim,  fer  we  won't  go  fur  enough  to  be  cut  off." 

"Then  the  exercise  will  not  be  beneficial,  and  I  will 
remain  here." 

"Profissor,  yer  head  is  a  bit  thick.  Can't  ye  take  a 
hint,  ur  is  it  a  kick  ye  nade,  Oi  dunno  ?" 

"Young  man,  be  careful  what  kind  of  language  you 
use  to  me!" 

"Oi'm  spakin'  United  States,  profissor;  no  Irishmon 
wauld  iver  spake  English  av  he  could  hilp  it." 

"But  such  talk  of  thick  heads  and  kicks — to  me,  sir,  to 
me!" 

"Well,  Oi  don't  want  to  give  yez  a  kick,  but  ye  nade 
it.  Ye  can't  see  thot  it's  alone  a  bit  Frank  an'  th'  litthle 
girrul  would  loike  to  be." 

"Why  should  they  wish  to  be  alone  ?" 

"Oh,  soay !  did  ye  iver  think  ye'd  loike  to  be  alone  wid 
a  pretty  swate  girrul,  profissor?  Come  on,  now,  before 
Oi  pick  ye  up  an'  lug  ye  out." 

So  Barney  finally  induced  the  professor  to  leave  the 
hut,  but  the  little  man  remained  close  at  hand,  ready  to 


Right  or  Wrong.  199 

bolt  in  through  the  wide  open  door  the  instant  there  was 
the  least  sign  of  danger. 

Left  to  themselves,  Frank  and  Elsie  chatted,  talking 
over  many  things  of  mutual  interest.  They  sat  very  near 
together,  and  more  and  more  Frank  felt  the  magnetism 
of  the  girl's  winning  ways  and  tender  eyes.  He  drew 
nearer  and  nearer,  and,  finally,  although  neither  knew 
how  it  happened,  their  hands  met,  their  ringers  inter 
locked,  and  then  he  was  saying  swiftly,  earnestly : 

"Elsie,  you  cannot  know  how  often  I  have  thought  of 
you  since  you  left  me  at  Fardale.  There  was  something1 
wrong  about  that  parting,  Elsie,  for  you  refused  to  let 
me  know  where  you  were  going,  refused  to  write  to  me, 
expressed  a  wish  that  we  might  never  meet  again." 

She  caught  her  breath.  Her  head  was  bowed,  and 
her  cheeks  were  very  pale. 

"All  the  while,"  she  softly  said,  "away  down  in  my 
heart  was  a  hope  I  could  not  kill — a  hope  that  we  might 
meet  again  some  day,  Frank." 

"And  we  have  met !"  he  cried,  exultantly.  "When  we 
have  to  part  again,  Elsie,  you  will  not  leave  me  as  you 
did  before?  You  will  let  me  write  to  you?  You  will 
write  to  me  occasionally?*' 

"Would  it  be  _  right  ?\ 

She  was  looking  straight  into  his  eyes  now,  her  face 
was  near  his,  and  the  temptation  was  too  great  for  his 
impulsive  nature  to  resist.  In  a  moment  his  arm  was 
about  her  neck,  and  he  had  kissed  her. 

"Right !"  he  cried.  "I  do  not  know !  Oh,  we  cannot 
always  be  right!" 

She  quickly  released  herself  from  his  hold  and  sprang 
to  her  feet,  the  warm  blood  flushing  her  cheeks. 

"We  cannot  always  be  right,"  she  admitted:  "but  we 
should  be  right  when  we  can.  Frank,  Inza  Burrage  be 
friended  me.  She  thinks  more  of  you  than  any  one  else 
in  the  wide  world.  Do  not  forget  Inza !" 

He  lifted  his  hand  to  a  round  hole  in  his  coat  where  a 
bullet  from  Leslie  Gage's  revolver  had  cut  through,  and 
beneath  it  he  felt  the  ruined  and  shattered  locket  that 
held  Inza's  picture. 

"I  will  not  forget !"  he  said,  his  voice  far  from  steady. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
FRANK'S  MERCY. 

The  forenoon  passed,  and  the  afternoon  was  well  ad 
vanced,  but  still  Socato  the  Seminole  did  not  return. 

But  late  in  the  afternoon  a  boat  and  a  number  of 
canoes  appeared.  In  the  boat  was  Leslie  Gage  and  the 
two  sailors,  Black  Tom  and  Bowsprit.  The  canoes  were 
filled  with  Indians. 

"Great  shnakes  av  Ireland!"  cried  Barney  Mulloy, 
amazed.  "Phwat  th'  dickens  does  this  mane,  Oi  dunno?" 

"It  means  trouble,"  said  Frank,  quickly.  "Have  the 
rifles  ready,  and  be  prepared  for  hot  work." 

"Indians !"  gurgled  Professor  Scotch.  "We're  all  dead 
and  scalped!" 

"Those  must  be  Seminoles,"  said  Frank.  "It  is  scarcely 
likely  that  they  are  very  dangerous." 

The  boat  containing  the  three  white  persons  ran  boldly 
up  to  the  shore,  and  Leslie  Gage  landed.  Advancing  a 
short  distance  toward  the  hut,  the  door  of  which  was  se 
curely  closed,  he  cried: 

"Hello  in  there !" 

"Talk  with  him,  Barney,"  Frank  swiftly  directed.  "The 
fellow  does  not  know  I  am  alive,  and  I  do  not  wish  him 
to  know  it  just  now." 

So  Barney  returned: 

"Hello,  yersilf,  an'  see  how  ye  loike  it." 

"You  people  are  in  a  bad  trap,"  declared  Gage,  with  a 
threatening  air.  "Look,"  and  he  motioned  toward  the 
water,  where  the  canoes  containing  the  Indians  were 
lying,  "these  are  my  backers.  There  are  twenty  of 'them, 
and  I  have  but  to  say  the  word  to  have  them  attack  this 
hut  and  tear  it  to  the  ground." 

"Well,  Oi  dunno  about  thot,"  coolly  retorted  the  Irish 
lad.  "We  moight  have  something  to  say  in  thot  case. 
It's  arrumed  we  are,  an'  we  know  how  to  use  our  goons, 
me  foine  birrud." 


Frank's  Mercy.  201 

"If  you  were  to  fire  a  shot  at  one  of  these  Indians  it 
would  mean  the  death  of  you  all." 

"Is  thot  so?  Well,  we  are  arrumed  with  Winchester 
repeaters,  an'  it  moight  make  the  death  av  thim  all  av 
we  began  shootin'." 

"They  do  not  look  very  dangerous,"  said  Frank.  "I'll 
wager  something  Gage  has  hired  the  fellows  to  come  here 
and  make  a  show  in  order  to  scare  us  into  submitting. 
The  chances  are  the  Indians  will  not  fight  at  all." 

"You're  not  fools,"  said  Gage,  "and  you  will  not  do 
anything  that  means  the  same  as  signing  your  death  war 
rant.  If  you  will  come  to  reason,  we'll  have  no  trouble. 
We  want  that  girl,  Miss  Bellwood,  and  we  will  have 
her.  If  you  do  not " 

He  stopped  suddenly,  for  there  was  a  great  shouting 
from  the  Indians. 

"The  phantom !  the  phantom !"  they  cried,  in  tones  that 
betokened  the  greatest  terror. 

Then  they  took  to  flight,  paddling  as  if  their  very  lives 
depended  on  it. 

At  the  same  time,  the  mysterious  white  canoe,  still  ap 
parently  without  an  occupant,  was  seen  coming  swiftly 
toward  them,  gliding  lightly  over  the  water  in  a  most  un 
accountable  manner. 

Exclamations  of  astonishment  broke  from  the  two 
sailors,  and  Leslie  Gage  stared  at  the  singular  craft  in 
profound  astonishment. 

When  the  attention  of  the  crowd  was  on  the  remark 
able  sight,  Frank  unfastened  the  door  and  before  Gage 
was  aware  of  it,  our  hero  was  right  upon  him. 

"You  are  my  prisoner,  Gage!"  Frank  shouted,  point 
ing  a  revolver  at  the  fellow.  "Surrender!" 

Gage  saw  the  boy  he  believed  he  had  destroyed,  ut 
tered  a  wild  shriek,  threw  up  his  hands,  and  fell  in  a 
senseless  heap  to  the  ground. 

Frank  swiftly  lifted  the  fellow,  and  then  ran  into  the 
cabin  with  him,  placing  him  on  the  couch. 

The  two  sailors  did  not  pursue.  In  fact,  they  seemed 
almost  as  badly  scared  as  the  Indians,  and  they  got  away 
in  their  boat,  rowing  as  if  for  their  very  lives,  soon  pass 
ing  from  sight. 

"Well,  begobs!"  exclaimed  Barney  Mulloy;  "this  is 


202  Frank's  Mercy. 

phwat  Oi  call  a  ragion  av  wonders.  It's  ivery  doay  and 
almost  ivery  hour  something  happens  to  astonish  ye." 

Gage  was  made  secure,  so  he  could  not  get  away  when 
he  recovered  from  the  swoon  into  which  he  seemed  to 
have  fallen. 

A  short  time  after,  Socato  was  seen  returning,  but  he 
was  alone  in  his  canoe. 

"He  has  not  found  my  father — my  poor  father !"  cried 
Elsie,  in  distress.  "Those  terrible  men  will  kill  my 
father!" 

"Wait!"  advised  Frank.  "Let's  hear  what  he  has  to 
say.  I  have  great  confidence  in  Socato." 

"The  bad  white  men  leave  their  captive  alone,"  said 
Socato,  "and  I  should  have  set  him  free,  but  the  great 
white  phantom  came,  and  then  the  white  captive  disap 
peared." 

"What's  that?"  cried  Frank,  in  astonishment.  "Make 
it  plain,  Socato.  Whom  do  you  mean  by  the  great  white 
phantom  ?" 

"The  one  who  owns  the  canoe  that  goes  alone — the 
one  who  built  this  house  and  lives  here  sometimes. 
Every  one  fears  him.  My  people  say  he  is  a  phantom, 
for  he  can  appear  and  disappear  as  he  likes,  and  he  com 
mands  the  powers  of  light  and  darkness.  Socato  knew 
that  the  bad  white  man  had  hired  a  hunting  party  of  my 
people  to  come  here  and  appear  before  the  house  to 
frighten  you,  but  he  knew  you  would  not  be  frightened, 
and  the  bad  men  could  not  get  my  people  to  aid  them  in 
a  fight.  Socato  also  knew  that  the  great  white  phantom 
sent  his  canoe  to  scare  my  people  away,  but  he  does  not 
know  what  the  great  white  phantom  has  done  with  the 
man  who  was  a  prisoner." 

"Well,  it  is  possible  the  great  white  phantom  will  ex 
plain  a  few  things  we  do  not  understand,"  said  Frank, 
"for  here  he  comes  in  his  canoe." 

"And  father — my  father  is  with  him  in  the  canoe!" 
screamed  Elsie  Bellwood,  in  delight. 

It  was  true.  The  white  canoe  was  approaching,  still 
gliding  noiselessly  over  the  water,  without  any  apparent 
power  of  propulsion,  and  in  it  were  seated  two  men.  One 
had  a  long  white  beard  and  a  profusion  of  white  hair. 
He  was  dressed  entirely  in  white,  and  sat  in  the  stern 


Frank's  Mercy.  203 

of  the  canoe.  The  other  was  Captain  Justin  Bellwood, 
quite  unharmed,  and  looking  very  much  at  his  ease. 

The  little  party  flocked  to  the  shore  to  greet  the  cap 
tain,  who  waved  his  hand  and  called  reassuringly  to 
Elsie.  As  soon  as  the  canoe  touched  and  came  to  a  rest, 
he  stepped  out  and  clasped  his  daughter  in  his  arms,  say 
ing,  fervently : 

"Heaven  be  thanked!  we  have  come  through  many 
dangers,  and  we  are  free  at  last!  Neither  of  us  has 
been  harmed,  and  we  will  soon  be  out  of  this  fearful 
swamp." 

The  man  with  the  white  hair  and  beard  stepped  ashore 
and  stood  regarding  the  girl  intently,  paying  no  heed  to 
the  others.  Captain  Bellwood  turned  to  him,  saying: 

"William,  this  is  my  daughter,  of  whom  I  told  you. 
Elsie,  this  is  your  Uncle  William,  who  disappeared  many 
years  ago,  and  has  never  been  heard  from  since  till  he 
set  me  free  to-day,  after  I  was  abandoned  by  those 
wretches  who  dragged  us  here." 

"My  uncle?"  cried  the  girl,  wonderingly.  "How  can 
that  be?  You  said  Uncle  William  was  dead." 

"And  so  I  believed,  but  he  still  lives.  Professor  Scotch, 
I  think  we  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  in  Fardale.  Per 
mit  me  to  introduce  you  to  William  Bellwood,  one  of 
the  most  celebrated  electricians  living  to-day." 

As  he  said  this,  Captain  Bellwood  made  a  swift  mo 
tion  which  his  brother  did  not  see.  He  touched  his  fore 
head,  and  the  signal  signified  that  William  Bellwood 
was  not  right  in  his  mind.  This  the  professor  saw  was 
true  when  he  shook  hands  with  the  man,  for  there  was 
the  light  of  madness  in  the  eyes  of  the  hermit. 

"My  brother,"  continued  Captain  Bellwood,  "has  ex 
plained  that  he  came  here  to  these  wilds  to  continue  his 
study  of  electricity  alone  and  undisturbed.  He  took 
means  to  keep  other  people  from  bothering  him.  This 
canoe,  which  contains  a  lower  compartment  and  a  hidden 
propeller,  driven  by  electricity,  was  his  invention.  He 
has  arrangements  whereby  he  can  use  a  powerful  search 
light  at  night,  and " 

"That  search-light  came  near  being  the  death  ef  me," 
said  Frank.  "He  turned  it  on  me  last  night  just  in  time 
to  show  me  to  my  enemy." 


204  Frank's  Mercy. 

"He  has  many  other  contrivances,"  Captain  Bellwood 
went  on.  "He  has  explained  that,  by  means  of  electricity, 
he  can  make  his  canoe  or  himself  glow  with  a  white  light 
in  the  darkest  night." 

"Begorra !  we've  seen  him  glow !"  shouted  Barney. 

"And  he  also  states  that  he  has  wires  connecting 
various  batteries  in  yonder  hut,  so  that  he  can  frighten 
away  superstitious  hunters  who  otherwise  might  take 
possession  of  the  hut  and  give  him  trouble." 

"Whoop!"  shouted  Barney.  "Thot  ixplains  th'  foire- 
allarum  an'  th'  power  thot  throwed  me  inther  th'  middle 
av  th'  flure!  Oi  nivver  hearrud  th'  bate  av  it!" 

"It  is  wonderful,  wonderful!"  gasped  Professor 
Scotch. 

At  this  moment,  a  series  of  wild  shrieks  came  from 
the  hut,  startling  them  all. 

"It  is  Gage,"  said  Frank.  "He  seems  to  be  badly 
frightened." 

They  hurried  toward  the  hut,  Frank  leading.  Gage 
was  still  on  the  couch,  and  he  shrieked  still  louder  when 
he  saw  Frank;  an  expression  of  the  greatest  terror  com 
ing  to  his  face. 

"Take  him  away!  Take  him  away!"  screamed  the 
wretched  fellow.  "He  is  dead!  I  killed  him!  Don't 
let  him  touch  me!" 

Then  he  began  to  rave  incoherently,  sometimes  froth 
ing  at  the  mouth. 

"He  is  mad !"  cried  Professor  Scotch. 

"It  is  retribution!"  came  solemnly  from  Frank's  lips. 

Two  days  later  a  party  of  eight  persons  emerged  from 
the  wilds  of  the  great  Dismal  Swamp  and  reached  a 
small  settlement.  They  were  Frank  Merriwell,  Barney 
Mulloy,  Professor  Scotch,  Leslie  Gage,  Captain  Bell- 
wood  and  his  brother  William,  Socato  the  Seminole,  and 
last,  but  far  from  least,  Elsie  Bellwood. 

"What  shall  be  done  with  Gage?"  asked  Professor 
Scotch. 

"He  shall  be  given  shelter  and  medical  treatment,"  de 
clared  Frank ;  "and  I  will  see  that  all  the  bills  are  paid." 

"Thot's  the  only  thing  Oi  have  against  ye,  me  b'y.  Ye 
wur  always  letting  up  on  yer  inemies  at  Fardale,  an'  ye 
shtill  kape  on  doin'  av  it." 


Frank's  Mercy.  205 

"If  I  continue  to  do  so,  I  shall  have  nothing  to  trouble 
my  conscience." 

Frank  did  take  care  of  Gage  and  see  that  he  was  given 
the  best  medical  aid  that  money  could  procure,  and, 
as  a  result,  the  fellow  was  saved  from  a  madhouse,  for 
he  finally  recovered.  He  seemed  to  appreciate  the  mercy 
shown  him  by  his  enemy,  for  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Frank 
that  was  filled  with  entreaties  for  forgiveness  and  prom 
ised  to  try  to  lead  a  different  life  in  the  future. 

"That,"  said  Frank,  "is  my  reward  for  being  merciful 
to  an  enemy." 

If  Jack  Jaggers  did  not  perish  in  the  Everglades,  he 
disappeared.  Ben  Bowsprit  and  Black  Tom  also  van 
ished,  and  it  is  possible  that  they  left  their  bones  in  the 
great  Dismal  Swamp. 

William  Bellwood,  so  long  a  hermit  in  the  wilds  of 
Florida,  seemed  glad  to  leave  that  region. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

IN   THE  MOUNTAINS  AGAIN. 

Leaving  their  friends  in  Florida,  Frank,  Barney  and 
the  professor  next  moved  northward  toward  Tennessee, 
Frank  wishing  to  see  some  of  the  battlegrounds  of  the 
Civil  War. 

The  boys  planned  a  brief  tour  afoot  and  were  soon 
on  their  way  among  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains. 

Professor  Scotch  had  no  heart  for  a  "tour  afoot" 
through  the  mountains,  and  so  he  had  stopped  at  Knox- 
ville,  where  the  boys  were  to  join  him  again  in  two  or 
three  weeks,  by  the  end  of  which  period  he  was  quite 
sure  they  would  have  enough  of  tramping. 

Frank  and  Barney  were  making  the  journey  from 
Gibson's  Gap  to  Cranston's  Cove,  which  was  said  to  be 
a  distance  of  twelve  miles,  but  they  were  willing  to  ad 
mit  that  those  mountain  miles  were  most  disgustingly 
long. 

They  had  paused  to  rest,  midway  in  the  afternoon, 
where  the  road  curved  around  a  spur  of  the  mountain. 
Below  them  opened  a  vista  of  valleys  and  "coves,"  hem 
med  in  by  wild,  turbulent-appearing  masses  of  mountains, 
some  of  which  were  barren  and  bleak,  seamed  with  black 
chasms,  above  which  threateningly  hung  grimly  beetling 
crags,  and  some  of  which  were  robed  in  dense  wilder 
nesses  of  pine,  veiling  their  faces,  keeping  them  thus 
forever  a  changeless  mystery. 

From  their  eyrie  position  it  seemed  that  they  could 
toss  a  pebble  into  Lost  Creek,  which  wound  through  the 
valley  below,  meandered  for  miles  amid  the  ranges,  tun 
neling  an  unknown  channel  beneath  the  rock-ribbed 
mountains,  and  came  out  again — where? 

Both  boys  had  been  silent  and  awe-stricken,  gazing 
wonderingly  on  the  impressive  scene  and  thinking  of  their 
adventures  in  New  Orleans  and  in  Florida,  when  a  faint 
cry  seemed  to  float  upward  from  the  depths  of  the  valley. 

"Help!" 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  207 

They  listened,  and  some  moments  passed  in  silence, 
save  for  the  peeping  cry  of  a  bird  in  a  thicket  near  at 
hand. 

"Begorra!  Oi  belave  it  wur  imagination,  Frankie," 
said  the  Irish  lad,  at  last. 

"I  do  not  think  so,"  declared  Frank,  with  a  shake  of 
his  head.  "It  was  a  human  voice,  and  if  we  were  to 
shout  it  might  be There  it  is  again!" 

There  could  be  no  doubt  this  time,  for  they  both  heard 
the  cry  distinctly. 

"It  comes  from  below,"  said  Frank,  quickly. 

"Roight,  me  lad,"  nodded  Barney.  "Some  wan  is  in 
difficulty  down  there,  and'  it's  mesilf  thot  don't  moind 
givin'  thim  a  lift." 

Getting  a  firm  hold  on  a  scrub  bush,  Frank  leaned  out 
over  the  verge  and  looked  down  into  the  valley. 

"I  can  see  her !"  he  cried.  "Look,  Barney — look  down 
there  amid  those  rocks  just  below  the  little  waterfall." 

"Oi  see,  Frankie." 

"See  the  flutter  of  a  dress  ?" 

"Oi  do." 

"She  is  waving  something  at  us." 

"Sure,  me  b'y." 

"She  has  seen  us,  and  is  signaling  for  us  to  come 
down." 

"And  we'll  go." 

"Instanter,  as  they  say  out  West." 

The  boys  were  soon  hurrying  down  the  mountain 
road,  a  bend  of  which  quickly  carried  them  beyond  view 
of  the  person  near  the  waterfall. 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  later  when  Frank  and  Barney 
approached  the  little  waterfall,  having  left  the  road  and 
followed  the  course  of  the  stream. 

"Is  she  there,  Frankie?"  anxiously  asked  Barney,  who 
was  behind. 

"Can't  tell  yet,"  was  the  reply.  "Will  be  able  to  see  in 
a  minute,  and  then She  is  there,  sure  as  fate!" 

In  another  moment  they  came  out  in  full  view  of  a 
girl  of  eighteen  or  nineteen,  who  was  standing  facing 
the  waterfall,  her  back  toward  a  great  rock,  a  home 
made  fishing  pole  at  her  feet. 

The  girl  was  dressed  in  homespun,  the  skirt  being  short 


2o8  In  the  Mountains  Again. 

and  reaching  but  a  little  below  the  knees,  and  a  calico 
sunbonnet  was  thrust  half  off  her  head. 

Frank  paused,  with  a  low  exclamation  of  admiration, 
for  the  girl  made  a  most  strikingly  beautiful  picture,  and 
Frank  had  an  eye  for  beauty. 

Nearly  all  the  mountain  girls  the  boys  had  seen  were 
stolid  and  flat-appearing,  some  were  tall  and  lank,  but 
this  girl  possessed  a  figure  that  seemed  perfect  in  every 
detail. 

Her  hair  was  bright  auburn,  brilliant  and  rich  in  tint, 
the  shade  that  is  highly  esteemed  in  civilization,  but  is 
considered  a  defect  by  the  mountain  folk.  Frank  thought 
it  the  most  beautiful  hair  he  had  ever  seen. 

Her  eyes  were  brown  and  luminous,  and  the  color  of 
health  snowed  through  the  tan  upon  her  cheeks.  Her 
parted  lips  showed  white,  even  teeth,  and  the  mouth  was 
most  delicately  shaped. 

"Hivvins!"  gasped  Barney,  at  Frank's  shoulder. 
"Phwat  have  we  struck,  Oi  dunno?" 

Then  the  girl  cried,  her  voice  full  of  impatience : 

"You-uns  has  shorely  been  long  enough  in  gittin' 
har!" 

Frank  staggered  a  bit,  for  he  had  scarcely  expected  to 
hear  the  uncouth  mountain  dialect  from  such  lips  as  those 
but  he  quickly  recovered,  lifted  his  hat  with  the  greatest 
gallantry,  and  said: 

"I  assure  you,  miss,  that  we  came  as  swiftly  as  we 
could." 

"Ye're  strangers.  Ef  you-uns  had  been  maounting 
boys,  you'd  been  har  in  less'n  half  ther  time." 

"I  presume  that  is  true ;  but,  you  see,  we  did  not  know 
the  shortest  way,  and  we  were  not  sure  you  wanted  us." 

"Wai,  what  did  you  'low  I  whooped  at  ye  fur  ef  I 
didn't  want  ye  ?  I  nighly  split  my  throat  a-hollerin'  at  ye 
before  ye  h'ard  me  at  all." 

Frank  was  growing  more  and  more  dismayed,  for  he 
had  never  before  met  a  strange  girl  who  was  quite  like 
this,  and  he  knew  not  what  to  say. 

"Now  that  we  have  arrived,"  he  bowed,  "we  shall  be 
happy  to  be  of  any  possible  service  to  you." 

"Dunno  ez  I  want  ye  now,"  she  returned,  with  a  toss 
of  her  head. 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  209 

"Howly  shmoke!"  gurgled  Barney,  at  Frank's  ear. 
"It's  a  doaisy  she  is,  me  b'y !" 

Frank  resolved  to  take  another  tack,  and  so  he  ad 
vanced,  saying  boldly  and  resolutely: 

"Now  that  you  have  called  us  down  here,  I  don't  see 
how  you  are  going  to  get  rid  of  us.  You  want  some 
thing  of  us,  and  we'll  not  leave  you  till  we  find  out  what 
it  is." 

The  girl  did  not  appear  in  the  least  alarmed.  Instead 
of  that,  she  laughed,  and  that  laugh  was  like  the  ripple 
of  falling  water. 

"Wai,  now  you're  talkin'!"  she  cried,  with  something 
like  a  flash  of  admiration.  "Mebbe  you-uns  has  got  some 
backbone  arter  all.  I  like  backbone." 

"I  have  not  looked  at  mine  for  so  long  that  I  am  not 
sure  what  condition  it  is  in,  but  I  know  I  have  one." 

"An'  muscle?" 

"A  little." 

"Then  move  this  rock  har  that  hez  caught  my  foot  an* 
holds  it.  That's  what  I  wanted  o'  you-uns." 

She  lifted  her  skirt  a  bit,  and,  for  the  first  time,  they 
saw  that  her  ankle  had  been  caught  between  two  large 
rocks,  where  she  was  held  fast. 

"Kinder  slomped  in  thar  when  I  war  fishin',"  she  ex 
plained,  "an'  ther  big  rock  dropped  over  thar  an'  cotched 
me  fast  when  I  tried  ter  pull  out.  That  war  nigh  two 
hour  ago,  'cordin'  ter  ther  sun." 

"And  you  have  been  standing  like  that  ever  since?" 
cried  Frank,  in  dismay.  "Lively,  Barney — get  hold 
here!  Great  Scott!  we  must  have  her  out  of  that  in  a 
hurry !" 

"Thot's  phwat  we  will,  ur  we'll  turrun  th'  ould  moun 
tain  over!"  shouted  the  Irish  lad,  as  he  flew  to  the  aid 
of  his  friend. 

The  girl  looked  surprised  and  pleased,  and  then  she 
said: 

"You-uns  ain't  goin'  ter  move  that  rock  so  easy,  fer 
it's  hefty." 

"But  your  ankle — it  must  have  crushed  your  ankle." 

"I  'low  not.  Ye  see  it  couldn't  pinch  harder  ef  it  tried, 
fer  them  rocks  ain't  built  so  they  kin  git  nigher  together ; 


2io  In  the  Mountains  Again. 

but  it's  jest  made  a  reg'ler  trap  so  I  can't  pull  my  foot 
out." 

It  was  no  easy  thing  for  the  boys  to  get  hold  of  the 
rock  in  a  way  to  exert  their  strength,  but  they  finally  suc 
ceeded,  and  then  Frank  gave  the  word,  and  they  strained 
to  move  it.  It  started  reluctantly,  as  if  loath  to  give  up 
its  fair  captive,  but  they  moved  it  more  and  more,  and 
she  was  able  to  draw  her  foot  out.  Then,  when  she  was 
free,  they  let  go,  and  the  rock  fell  back  with  a  grating 
crash  against  the  other. 

"You-uns  have  done  purty  fair  fer  boys,"  said  the 
girl,  with  a  saucy  twinkle  in  her  brown  eyes.  "S'pose 
I'll  have  ter  thank  ye,  fer  I  mought  a  stood  har  consid- 
er'bul  longer  ef  'tadn't  bin  fer  ye.  Who  be  ye,  anyhow  ? 
an'  whar  be  ye  goin'  ?" 

Frank  introduced  himself,  and  then  presented  Barney, 
after  which  he  explained  how  they  happened  to  be  in  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains. 

She  watched  him  closely  as  he  spoke,  noting  every 
expression,  as  if  a  sudden  suspicion  had  come  upon  her, 
and  she  was  trying  to  settle  a  doubt  in  her  mind. 

When  Frank  had  finished,  the  girl  said : 

"Never  heard  o'  two  boys  from  ther  big  cities  'way 
off  yander  comin'  har  ter  tromp  through  ther  maountings 
jest  fer  ther  fun  o'  seein'  ther  scenery  an'  ther  folks.  I 
s'pose  we're  kinder  curi's  'pearin'  critters  ter  city  folks, 
an'  you-uns  may  be  har  ter  cotch  one  o'  us  an'  put  us  in 
a  cage  fer  exhibition." 

She  uttered  the  words  in  a  way  that  brought  a  flush 
to  Frank's  cheeks,  and  he  hastened  to  protest,  halting  in 
confusion  when  he  tried  to  speak  her  name,  which  he  did 
not  know  as  yet. 

A  ripple  of  sunshine  seemed  to  break  over  her  face, 
and  she  laughed  outright,  swiftly  saying : 

"Don't  you-uns  mind  me.  I'm  p'izen  rough,  but  I 
don't  mean  half  I  say.  I  kin  see  you  is  honest  an'  squar, 
though  somebody  else  mought  think  by  yer  way  that  ye 
warn't.  My  name's  Kate  Kenyon,  an'  I  live  down  toward 
ther  cove.  I  don't  feel  like  fishin'  arter  this,  an'  ef  you- 
uns  is  goin'  that  way,  I'll  go  'long  with  ye." 

She  picked  up  her  pole,  hooked  up  the  line,  and  pre 
pared  to  accompany  them. 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  211 

They  were  pleased  to  have  her  as  a  companion.  In 
deed,  Frank  was  more  than  pleased,  for  he  saw  in  this 
girl  a  singular  character.  Illiterate  though  she  seemed, 
she  was  pretty,  vivacious,  and  so  bright  that  it  was  plain 
education  and  refinement  would  make  her  most  fascinat 
ing  and  brilliant. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

FRANK    AND     KATE. 

The  boys  did  not  get  to  Cranston's  Cove  that  night, 
for  Kate  Kenyon  invited  them  to  stop  and  take  supper  at 
her  home,  and  they  did  so. 

Kate's  home  was  much  like  the  rough  cabins  of  other 
mountain  folks,  except  that  flowering  vines  had  been 
trained  to  run  up  the  sides  and  over  the  door,  while  two 
large  bushes  were  loaded  with  roses  in  front  of  the  house. 

Kate's  mother  was  in  the  doorway  as  they  approached. 
She  was  a  tall,  angular  woman,  with  a  stolid,  expression 
less  face. 

"Har,  mammy,  is  some  fellers  I  brung  ter  see  ye,"  said 
this  girl.  "This  un  is  Mr.  Merriwell,  an'  that  un  is  Mr. 
Mulloy." 

The  boys  lifted  their  hats,  and  bowed  to  the  woman  as 
if  she  were  a  society  queen.  She  nodded  and  stared. 

"What  be  you-uns  doin'  'round  these  parts?"  she 
asked,  pointedly. 

Frank  explained,  seeing  a  look  of  suspicion  and  dis 
trust  deepening  in  her  face  as  he  spoke. 

"Huah!"  she  grunted,  when  he  had  finished.  "An* 
what  do  you-uns  want  o'  me?" 

"Your  daughter  invited  us  to  call  and  take  supper,"  said 
Frank,  coolly. 

"I  ain't  uster  cookin'  flip-flaps  fer  city  chaps,  an'  I 
don't  b'lieve  you  kin  eat  the  kind  o'  fodder  we-uns  is 
uster." 

The  boys  hastened  to  assure  her  that  they  would  be 
delighted  to  eat  the  plainest  of  food,  and  their  eagerness 
brought  a  merry  laugh  from  the  lips  of  the  girl. 

"You-uns  is  consid'ble  amusin',"  she  said.  "You  is 
powerful  perlite.  I  asked  'em  to  come,  mammy.  It's  no 
more'n  fair  pay  fer  what  they  done  fer  me." 

Then  she  explained  how  she  had  been  caught  and  held 
by  the  rocks,  and  how  the  boys  had  seen  her  from  the 
mountain  road  and  come  to  her  rescue. 


Frank  and  Kate.  213 

The  mother's  face  did  not  soften  a  bit  as  she  listened, 
but,  when  Kate  had  finished,  she  said: 

"They're  yore  company.    Ask  'em  in." 

So  the  boys  were  asked  into  the  cabin,  and  Kate  her 
self  prepared  supper. 

It  was  a  plain  meal,  but  Frank  noticed  that  everything 
looked  neat  and  clean  about  the  house,  and  both  lads 
relished  the  coarse  food.  Indeed,  Barney  afterward  de 
clared  that  the  corn  bread  was  better  than  the  finest  cake 
he  had  ever  tasted. 

Frank  was  particularly  happy  at  the  table,  and  the 
merry  stories  he  told  kept  Kate  laughing,  and,  once  or 
twice,  brought  a  grim  smile  to  the  face  of  the  woman. 

After  supper  they  went  out  in  front  of  the  cabin, 
where  they  could  look  up  at  the  wild  mass  of  mountains, 
the  peaks  of  which  were  illumined  by  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun. 

Mrs.  Kenyon  filled  and  lighted  a  cob  pipe.  She  sat 
and  puffed  away,  staring  straight  ahead  in  a  blank  man 
ner. 

Just  how  it  happened  Frank  himself  could  not  have 
told,  but  Barney  fell  to  talking  to  the  woman  in  his  whim 
sical  way,  while  Frank  and  Kate  wandered  away  a  short 
distance,  and  sat  on  some  stones  which  had  been  arranged 
as  a  bench  in  a  little  nook  near  Lost  Creek.  From  this 
position  they  could  hear  Barney's  rich  brogue  and  jolly 
laugh  as  he  recounted  some  amusing  yarn,  and,  when 
the  wind  was  right,  a  smell  of  the  black  pipe  would  be 
wafted  to  them. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Frank,  "this  spot  is  so  wild  and 
picturesque  that  it  fascinates  me.  I  should  like  to  stop 
here  two  or  three  days  and  rest." 

"Better  not,"  said  the  girl,  shortly. 

"Why?"  asked  the  boy,  in  surprise. 

"Wai,  it  mought  not  be  healthy." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"You  might  be  tooken  fer  revenue." 

"For  revenue  ?    I  do  not  understand." 

"I  wonder  ef  you  air  so  ignerent,  or  be  you  jest  makin' 
it?" 

"Honestly  and  truly,  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"Wai,  I  kinder  'low  you-uns  is  all  right,  but  thar's 


214  Frank  and  Kate. 

others  might  not  think  so.  S'pose  you  know  what  moon 
shine  is?" 

"Yes ;  it  is  illicitly  distilled  whiskey." 

She  nodded. 

"That's  right.  Wai,  ther  revenues  say  thar's  moon 
shine  made  round  these  parts.  They  come  round  ev'ry 
little  while  to  spy  an'  cotch  ther  folks  that  makes  it." 

"By  revenues  you  mean  the  officers  of  the  govern 
ment?" 

"Wai,  they  may  be  officers,  but  they're  a  diffrunt  kind 
than  Jock  Hawkins." 

"Who  is  Jock  Hawkins?" 

"He's  ther  sheriff  down  to  ther  cove.  Jock  Hawkins 
knows  better'n  to  come  snoopin'  'round,  an'  he's  down 
on  revenues  ther  same  as  ther  rest  o'  us  is." 

"Then  you  do  not  like  the  revenue  officers  ?" 

"Like  'em !"  cried  the  girl,  starting  up,  her  eyes  seem 
ing  to  blaze  in  the  dusky  twilight.  "I  hate  'em  wuss'n 
pizen !  An'  I've  got  good  cause  fer  hatin'  'em." 

The  boy  saw  he  had  touched  a  tender  spot,  and  he 
would  have  turned  the  conversation  in  another  channel, 
but  she  was  started,  and  she  went  on  swiftly: 

"What  right  has  ther  gover'ment  to  take  away  any 
body's  honest  means  o'  earnin'  a  livin'?  What  right  has 
ther  gover'ment  to  send  spies  up  har  ter  peek  an'  pry 
an'  report  on  a  man  as  is  makin'  a  little  moonshine  ter  sell 
that  he  may  be  able  ter  git  bread  an'  drink  fer  his  fam'ly  ? 
What  right  has  ther  gover'ment  ter  make  outlaws  an* 
crim'nals  o'  men  as  wouldn't  steal  a  cent  that  didn't 
b'long  ter  them  if  they  was  starvin'?" 

Frank  knew  well  enough  the  feeling  of  most  mountain 
folks  toward  the  revenue  officers,  and  he  knew  it  was  a 
useless  task  to  attempt  to  show  them  where  they  were 
in  the  wrong. 

Kate  went  on,  passionately. 

"Yes,  I  has  good  right  to  hate  ther  revenues,  an'  I  do ! 
Didn't  they  pester  my  pore  old  daddy  fer  makin'  moon 
shine!  Didn't  they  hunt  him  through  ther  maountings 
fer  weeks,  an'  keep  him  hidin'  like  a  dog!  An'  didn't 
they  git  him  cornered  at  last  in  Bent  Coin's  old  cabin, 
an'  when  he  refused  t«r  come  out  an'  surrender,  an'  kep' 
'cm  off  with  his  gun,  didn't  they  shoot  him  so  he  died 


Frank  and  Kate.  215 

three  days  arter  in  my  arms !  Hate  'em !  Wai,  I've  got 
good  reason  ter  hate  'em !" 

Kate  was  wildly  excited,  although  she  held  her  voice 
down,  as  if  she  did  not  wish  her  mother  to  hear  what  she 
was  saying.  Frank  was  sitting  so  near  that  he  felt  her 
arm  quivering  against  his. 

"Hate  'em !"  continued  the  girl.  "I  has  more  than  that 
to  hate  'em  fer!  Whar  is  my  brother  Rufe,  ther  best 
boy  that  ever  .drored  a  breath?  Ther  revenues  come 
fer  him,  an'  they  got  him.  Thar  war  a  trial,  an'  they 
proved  ez  he'd  been  consarned  in  makin'  moonshine.  He 
war  convicted,  an'  he's  servin'  his  time.  Hate  'em! 
Wai,  thar's  nuthin'  I  hate  wuss  on  this  earth !" 

"You  have  had  hard  luck,"  said  Frank,  by  way  of  say 
ing  something.  "It's  lucky  for  us  that  we're  not  reve 
nues." 

"Yer  right  thar,"  she  nodded.  "I  didn't  know  but  ye 
war  at  first,  but  I  changed  my  mind  later." 

"Why?" 

"Wai,  ye're  young,  an'  you-uns  both  has  honest  faces. 
Revenues  is  sneaks.  They  show  it  in  their  faces." 

"I  don't  suppose  they  have  been  able  to  check  the 
making  of  moonshine — that  is,  not  to  any  extent?" 

She  laughed  harshly. 

"Wai,  I  judge  not!    Did  ye  ever  hear  o'  Muriel?" 

"Who  is  he?" 

"A  moonshiner." 

"What  of  him?" 

"He  makes  more  whiskey  in  a  week  than  all  ther  others 
in  this  region  afore  him  made  in  a  month." 

"He  must  be  smarter  than  the  others  before  him." 

"Wai,  he's  not  afeared  o'  ther  revenues,  an'  he's  a 
mystery  to  ther  men  ez  works  fer  him  right  along." 

"A  mystery?" 

"Yes." 

"How  so?" 

"None  o'  them  has  seen  his  face,  an'  they  don't  know 
\vho  he  is.  They  ain't  been  able  to  find  out." 

"And  they  have  tried?" 

"Wai,  Con  Bean  war  shot  through  ther  shoulder  fer 
follerin'  Muriel,  an'  Bink  Mower  got  it  in  ther  leg  fer 
ther  same  trick." 


216  Frank  and  Kate. 

"I  rather  admire  this  Muriel,"  laughed  Frank.  "He 
may  be  in  unlawful  business,  but  he  seems  to  be  a 
dandy." 

"He  keeps  five  stills  runnin'  all  ther  time,  an'  he  has 
a  way  o'  gittin'  ther  stuff  out  o'  ther  maountings  an'  dis- 
posin'  of  it.  But  I'm  talkin'  too  much,  as  Wade  would 
say." 

"Who  is  Wade?" 

"He's  Wade  Miller,  a  particular  friend  o'  our'n  sence 
Rufe  war  tooken  by  ther  revenues.  Wade  has  been  good 
to  mammy  an'  me." 

"I  don't  blame  him.  If  I  lived  near,  I  might  try  to 
bother  Wade  somewhat." 

She  glanced  at  him  swiftly.  It  was  now  duskish,  but 
he  was  so  near  that  he  could  see  her  eyes  through  the 
twilight. 

"I  dunno  what  you-uns  means,"  she  said,  slowly,  her 
voice  falling.  "Wade  would  be  powerful  bad  to  bother. 
He's  ugly  sometimes,  an'  he's  jellus  o'  me." 

"Then  Wade  is  paying  attention  to  you  ?" 

"Wai,  he's  tryin'  ter,  but  I  don't  jes'  snuggle  ter  him 
ther  way  I  might  ef  I  liked  him  right.  Thar's  some 
thing  about  him,  ez  I  don't  edzac'ly  like." 

"That  makes  it  rather  one-sided,  and  makes  me  think 
all  the  more  that  I  should  try  to  bother  him  if  I  lived 
near.  Do  you  know,  Miss  Kenyon,  that  you  are  an  ex 
ceptionally  pretty  girl?" 

"Go  'long!  You  can't  stuff  me!  Why,  I've  got  red 
hair!" 

"Hair  that  would  make  you  the  envy  of  a  society  belle. 
It  is  the  handsomest  hair  I  ever  saw." 

"Now  you're  makin'  fun  o'  me,  an'  I  don't  like  that." 

She  drew  away  as  if  offended,  and  he  leaned  toward 
her,  eager  to  convince  her  of  his  sincerity. 

"Indeed,  I  am  doing  nothing  of  the  sort,"  he  protested. 
"The  moment  I  saw  you  to-day  I  was  struck  by  the  beauty 
of  your  hair.  But  that  is  not  the  only  beautiful  feature 
about  you,  Miss  Kenyon.  Your  mouth  is  a  perfect 
Cupid's  bow,  and  your  teeth  are  like  pearls,  while  you 
have  a  figure  that  is  graceful  and  exquisite." 

She  caught  her  breath. 

"Never  nobody  talked  to  me   like  that   afore,"   she 


Frank  and  Kate.  217 

murmured.  "Round  har  they  jes'  say,  'Kate,  you'd 
be  a  rippin'  good  looker  ef  it  warn't  fer  that  red  hair  o' 
yourn.'  An'  they've  said  it  so  much  that  I've  come  to  hate 
my  hair  wuss'n  pizen." 

"Your  hair  is  your  crowning  beauty.  It  is  magnifi 
cent  !" 

"Say !"  she  whispered,  drawing  toward  him. 

"What?" 

"I  kinder  take  to  you." 

Her  hand  found  his,  and  they  were  sitting  very  near 
together. 

"I  took  to  you  up  by  ther  fall  ter-day,"  she  went  on, 
in  a  low  tone.  "Now,  don't  you  git  skeered,  fer  I'm  not 
goin'  to  be  foolish,  an'  I  know  I'm  not  book-learned  an* 
refined,  same  ez  your  city  gals.  We  kin  be  friends,  can't 
we?" 

Frank  had  begun  to  regret  his  openly  expressed  ad 
miration,  but  now  he  said : 

"To  be  sure  we  can  be  friends,  Miss  Kenyon." 

"Partic'ler  friends?" 

"I  am  sure  I  shall  esteem  your  friendship  very  highly." 

"Wall,  partic'ler  friends  don't  call  each  other  miss  an' 
mister.  I'll  agree  ter  call  you  Frank,  ef  you'll  call  me 
Kate." 

Frank  hesitated. 

"I  am  going  away  to-morrow,"  he  thought.  "It  won't 
do  any  harm." 

"Is  it  a  go?"  she  asked. 

"It  is  a  go,"  he  answered. 

"Frank !" 

"Kate!" 

A  fierce  exclamation  close  at  hand,  the  cracking  of  a 
twig,  a  heavy  step,  and  then  a  panther-like  figure  leaped 
out  of  the  dusk,  and  flung  itself  upon  Frank. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

A    JEALOUS    LOVER. 

The  attack  was  so  sudden  and  fierce  that  the  boy  was 
hurled  to  the  ground  before  he  could  make  a  move  to 
protect  himself. 

"You  shall  not  have  her !"  hissed  a  voice  in  his  ear. 

A  hand  fastened  on  his  throat,  pinning  him  fast.  The 
man's  knee  crushed  into  his  stomach,  depriving  him  of 
breath.  The  man's  other  hand  snatched  out  something, 
and  lifted  it  aloft. 

A  knife  was  poised  above  Frank's  heart,  and  in  an 
other  moment  the  blade  would  have  been  buried  to  the  hilt 
in  the  lad's  bosom. 

Without  uttering  a  sound,  Kate  Kenyon  grasped  the 
wrist  of  the  murderous-minded  man,  gave  it  a  wrench 
with  all  her  strength,  which  was  not  slight,  and  forced 
him  to  drop  the  knife. 

"You  don't  murder  anybody,  Wade  Miller!"  she 
panted. 

"I'll  choke  ther  life  outen  him !"  snarled  the  fellow,  as 
he  tried  to  fasten  both  hands  on  Frank's  throat. 

By  this  time  the  boy  had  recovered  from  the  surprise 
and  shock,  and  he  was  ready  to  fight  for  his  life. 

Kate  grasped  the  assailant  by  the  collar,  and,  with  as 
tonishing  strength,  pulled  him  off  the  prostrate  lad. 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  Frank  came  to  his  feet,  and 
he  was  ready  for  a  new  assault. 

Snarling  and  growling  like  a  mad  dog,  the  man  scram 
bled  up  and  lunged  toward  the  boy,  trying  to  grasp  him. 

Frank  was  a  skillful  boxer,  and  now  his  skill  came  into 
play,  for  he  dodged  under  the  man's  right  arm,  whirled 
like  a  cat,  and  struck  the  fellow  behind  the  ear. 

Spat !  sounded  the  blow,  sending  the  assailant  stagger 
ing,  and  Frank  followed  it  up  by  leaping  after  him  and 
striking  him  again,  the  second  blow  having  the  force  of 
the  lad's  strength  and  the  weight  of  his  body. 


A  Jealous  Lover.  219 

It  seemed  that  the  man  was  literally  knocked  "spin 
ning,"  and  he  did  not  stop  till  he  landed  in  the  creek. 

"Wai,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  "I  'low  you  kin  take  keer  o* 
yerself  now !" 

"I  rather  think  so,"  came  coolly  from  the  boy.  "He 
caught  me  foul,  and  I  did  not  have  a  show  at  first." 

"Look  out  fer  his  gun." 

"I  will.    Who  is  he?" 

"Wade  Miller." 

Frank  whistled.  It  was  a  case  of  jealousy,  and  he  had 
aroused  the  worst  passions  of  the  man  who  admired  Kate 
Kenyon.  Miller  came  scrambling  and  snorting  from  the 
water,  and  Barney  Mulloy  rushed  toward  the  spot,  crying : 

"Pwhat's  th'  row,  Frankie,  me  b'y?  Do  ye  nade  inny 
av  me  hilp?" 

"I  think  not.  So  far,  I  am  all  right,  thanks  to  Miss 
Kenyon." 

"An'  you  kin  fight!"  breathed  the  mountain  maid,  in 
sincere  admiration.  "I  didn't  s'pose  city  chaps  knowed 
how  ter  fight." 

"Some  do,"  laughed  Frank,  keeping  his  eyes  on  Miller. 

"I'll  have  his  life !"  panted  the  man,  springing  toward 
Frank,  and  then  halting  suddenly,  and  throwing  up  his 
hand. 

"Look  out !"  screamed  the  girl.    "He's  got  a  pistol !" 

Frank  knew  this  well  enough,  and  he  was-  expecting 
just  such  a  move,  so  it  happened  that  the  words  had 
scarcely  left  the  girl's  lips  when  the  revolver  was  sent 
flying  from  Wade  Miller's  hand.' 

The  boy  had  leaped  forward,  and,  with  one  skillful 
kick,  disarmed  his  foe  by  knocking  the  weapon  out  of  his 
hand. 

Miller  seemed  dazed  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  started 
for  Frank,  once  more  grinding  his  teeth. 

"Oh,  let  me  take  a  hand  in  this !"  cried  Barney  Mulloy, 
who  was  eager  for  a  fight.  "Me  blud  is  gittin'  shtagnant." 

"Keep  away !"  ordered  Frank.  "I  can  look  out  for  my 
self." 

"I'll  kill  ye !    I'll  kill  ye !"  snarled  the  infuriated  man. 

"Well,  you  have  tried  that  trick  twice,  but  I  do  not 
see  that  you  have  succeeded  to  any  great  extent." 


22O  A  Jealous  Lover. 

"I'll  hammer  yer  life  out  o'  yer  carcass  with  my  bare 
hands!" 

"Possibly  that  will  not  be  such  a  very  easy  trick  to  do." 

The  boy's  coolness  seemed  to  add  to  the  fury  of  his 
assailant,  and  the  man  made  another  rush,  which  was 
easily  avoided  by  Frank,  who  struck  Miller  a  stinging 
blow. 

"You'd  better  stop,  Wade,"  advised  the  girl.  "He-uns 
is  too  much  fer  you-uns,  an'  that's  plain  enough." 

"Oh,  I'll  show  ye— I'll  show  ye !" 

There  was  no  longer  any  reason  in  the  man's  head,  and 
Frank  saw  that  he  must  subdue  the  fellow  some  way. 
Miller  was  determined  to  grapple  with  the  boy,  and  Frank 
felt  that  he  would  find  the  mountaineer  had  the  strength 
of  an  ox,  for  which  reason  he  must  keep  clear  of  those 
grasping  hands. 

For  some  moments  Frank  had  all  he  could  do  to  avoid 
Miller,  who  seemed  to  have  grown  stolid  to  the  lad's 
blows.  At  last,  Frank  darted  in,  caught  the  man  behind, 
lifted  him  over  one  hip,  and  dashed  him  headlong  to  the 
ground. 

Miller  lay  still,  stunned. 

"Wai,  that's  the  beatenest  I  ever  saw !"  cried  Kate 
Kenyon,  whose  admiration  for  Frank  now  knew  no 
bounds.  "You-uns  is  jes'  a  terror!" 

Barney  laughed. 

"Whoy,  thot's  fun  fer  Frankie,"  he  declared. 

Miller  groaned,  and  sat  up,  lifting  his  hands  to  his 
head,  and  looking  about  him  in  a  dazed  way. 

"What's  happened  ter  me  ?"  he  asked,  speaking  thickly. 

"Ye  run  ag'in'  a  fighter  this  time,  Wade,"  said  the  girl. 
"He  done  ye,  an'  you-uns  is  ther  bully  o'  these  parts !" 

"It  was  an  accident,"  mumbled  the  man.  "I  couldn't 
see  ther  critter  well,  an'  so  he  kinder  got " 

"That  won't  go,  Wade,"  half  laughed  the  girl.  "He 
done  you  fa'r  an'  squar',  an'  it's  no  us'  ter  squawk." 

"An'  ye're  laffin'  'bout  it,  be  ye,  Kate?  Wai,  I  ain't 
done  with  him." 

The  girl  became  serious  instantly. 

"Better  let  him  erlone,  Wade.  You-uns  has  made  fool 
enough  o'  yerself.  Ye  tried  ter  kill  me,  an' " 


A  Jealous  Lover.  221 

"What  I  saw  made  me  do  it!"  grated  the  man.  "He 
war  makin'  love  ter  ye,  Kate — an'  you-uns  liked  it !" 

"Wai,  Wade  Miller,  what  is  that  ter  you-uns?"  she 
haughtily  demanded.  "He  has  a  right  ter  make  love  ter 
me  ef  he  wants  ter." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  has  a  right,  but  his  throat'll  be  slit  before 
long,  mark  what  I  say !" 

"Ef  anything  o'  that  kind  happens,  Wade  Miller,  I'll 
know  who  done  it,  an'  I  swa'r  I'll  never  rest  till  I  prove 
it  agin'  ye." 

"I  don't  keer,  Kate,"  muttered  the  man,  getting  on  his 
feet  and  standing  there  sulkily  before  them.  "Ef  I  can't 
hev  ye,  I  sw'ar  no  other  critter  shall !" 

"Be  keerful,  Wade  Miller!  I've  stood  all  I  kin  from 
you,  an'  from  now  on  I  don't  stan'  no  more.  Arter  this 
you-uns  an'  me-uns  ain't  even  friends." 

He  fell  back  a  step,  as  if  he  had  been  struck  a  blow, 
and  then  he  hoarsely  returned : 

"All  right,  Kate.  But  I'll  stick  ter  my  oath.  I  ain't 
ter  be  thrown  aside  so  easy.  As  fer  them  city  chaps, 
ther  maountings  ain't  big  enough  ter  hold  them  an'  me. 
Wade  Miller  has  some  power,  an'  I  wouldn't  give  a  snap 
for  their  lives.  The  Black  Caps  don't  take  ter  strangers 
much,  an'  they  know  them  critters  is  hyar.  I'm  goin' 
now,  but  that  don't  need  ter  mean  that  I'll  stay  away  fer 
long." 

He  turned,  and,  having  picked  up  his  revolver,  strode 
away  into  the  darkness,  quickly  disappearing. 

Kate's  trembling  hand  fell  on  Frank's  arm,  and  she 
panted  into  his  ear : 

"You-uns  must  git  out  o'  ther  maountings  quick  as  you 
kin,  fer  Wade  Miller  means  what  he  says,  an'  he'll  kill  ye 
ef  you  stay  hyar !" 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

FACING  DEATH. 

Frank  Merriwell's  blood  was  aroused,  and  he  did  not 
feel  like  letting  Wade  Miller  drive  him  like  a  hunted  dog 
from  the  mountains. 

"By  this  time  I  should  think  you  would  have  confidence 
in  my  ability  to  take  care  of  myself  against  this  man  Mil 
ler,"  he  said,  somewhat  testily. 

"Yo're  ther  best  fighter  I  ever  saw,  but  that  won't 
'mount  ter  anything  agin'  ther  power  Miller  will  set  on 
yer.  He's  pop-ler,  is  Wade  Miller,  an'  he'll  have  ther  hull 
maountings  ter  back  him." 

'I  shall  not  run  for  Miller  and  all  his  friends.  Right 
is  right,  and  I  have  as  good  right  here  as  he." 

"Hang  me!"  cried  Kate,  admiringly;  "hang  me  ef  I 
don't  like  you-uns'  pluck.  You  may  find  that  you'll  need 
a  friend  afore  yo're  done  with  Wade.  Ef  ye  do — wal, 
mebbe  Kate  Kenyon  won't  be  fur  off." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Frank.  "It  is  a  good  thing  to  know 
I  shall  have  one  friend  in  the  mountains." 

"Huah!"  grunted  a  voice,  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  was  seen 
stolidly  standing  in  the  dusk.  "Mebbe  you-uns  will  find 
my  Kate  ther  best  friend  ye  could  have.  Come,  gal,  it's 
time  ter  g'win." 

So  they  entered  the  cabin,  and  Barney  found  an  oppor 
tunity  to  whisper  to  Frank : 

"She's  a  corker,  me  b'y!  an'  Oi  think  she's  shtuck  on 
yez.  Betther  be  careful,  lad.  It's  dangerous." 

"Don't  worry,"  returned  Frank. 

Shortly  after  entering  the  house,  Mrs.  Kenyon  de 
clared  she  was  tired,  and  intended  to  go  to  bed.  She 
apologized  for  the  bed  she  had  to  give  the  boys,  but  they 
assured  her  that  they  were  accustomed  to  sleeping  any 
where,  and  that  the  bed  would  be  a  positive  luxury. 

"Such  slick-tongued  chaps  I  never  did  see  before,"  de 
clared  the  old  woman.  "They  don't  seem  stuck  up  an' 


Facing  Death.  223 

lofty,  like  most  city  fellers.  Really,  they  make  me  feel 
right  to  home  in  my  own  house !" 

She  said  this  in  a  whimsical  way  that  surprised  Frank, 
who  fancied  Mrs.  Kenyon  had  no  sense  of  humor. 

Kate  bade  them  good-night,  and  they  retired,  which 
they  were  glad  to  do,  as  they  were  tired  from  the  tramp 
of  the  day. 

Frank  was  awakened  by  a  sharp  shake,  and  his  first 
thought  was  of  danger,  but  his  hand  did  not  reach  tKe 
revolver  he  had  placed  beneath  the  pillow,  for  he  felt 
something  cold  against  his  temple,  and  heard  a  voice  hiss : 

"Be  easy,  you-uns!  Ef  ye  make  a  jowl,  yo're  ter  be 
shot!" 

Barney  was  awakened  at  the  same  time,  and  the  boys 
found  they  were  in  the  clutches  of  strong  men.  The  little 
room  seemed  filled  with  men,  and  the  lads  instantly  real 
ized  they  were  in  a  bad  scrape. 

Through  the  small  window  sifted  the  white  moonlight, 
showing  that  every  man  wore  a  black,  pointed  cap  and 
hood,  which  reached  to  his  shoulders.  In  this  hood  ar 
rangement  great  holes  were  cut  for  the  eyes,  and  some  had 
slits  cut  for  their  mouths. 

"The  Black  Caps!"  was  the  thought  that  flashed 
through  Frank's  mind. 

The  revolvers  pressed  against  the  heads  of  the  boys 
kept  them  from  defending  themselves  or  making  an  out 
cry.  They  were  forced  to  get  up  and  dress,  after  which 
they  were  passed  through  the  open  window,  like  bundles, 
their  hands  having  been  tied  behind  them. 

Other  black-hooded  men  were  outside,  and  horses  were 
near  at  hand. 

"Great  Scott !"  thought  Frank  Merriwell.  "We  are  in 
for  it !  We  should  have  been  ready  for  them." 

But  when  he  thought  how  tired  they  had  been,  he  did 
not  wonder  that  both  had  slept  soundly  while  the  men 
slipped  into  the  house  by  the  window,  which  had  been 
readily  and  noiselessly  removed. 

It  did  not  take  the  men  long  to  get  out  as  they  had 
entered.  Then  Frank  and  Barney  were  placed  on  horses, 
being  tied  there  securely,  and  the  party  was  soon  ready 
to  move. 

They  rode  away,  and  the  horses'  feet  gave  out  .no 


224  Facing  Death. 

sound,  which  explained  why  they  had  not  aroused  any 
body  within  the  cabin. 

The  hoofs  of  the  animals  were  muffled. 

Frank  wondered  what  Kate  Kenyon  would  think  when 
morning  came  and  she  found  her  guests  gone. 

"She  will  believe  we  rose  in  the  night,  and  ran  away. 
I  hate  to  have  her  believe  me  a  coward." 

Then  he  fell  to  wondering  what  the  men  would  do 
with  himself  and  Barney. 

"We  are  harmless  travelers.  They  will  not  dare  to  do 
anything  more  than  run  us  out  of  this  part  of  the  coun 
try." 

Although  he  told  himself  this,  he  was  far  from  feeling 
sure  that  the  men  would  do  nothing  else.  He  had  heard 
of  the  desperate  deeds  perpetrated  by  the  widely  known 
"White  Caps,"  and  it  was  not  likely  that  the  Black  Caps 
were  any  less  desperate  and  reckless. 

As  they  were  leaving  the  vicinity  of  the  cabin,  one  of 
the  horses  neighed  loudly,  causing  the  leader  of  the  party 
to  utter  an  exclamation  of  anger. 

"Ef  that  'rousts  ther  gal,  she's  li'bul  ter  be  arter  us 
in  a  hurry,"  one  of  the  men  observed. 

The  party  hurried  forward,  soon  passing  from  view 
of  the  cabin,  and  entering  the  shadow  that  lay  blackly  in 
the  depths  of  the  valley. 

They  rode  about  a  mile,  and  then  they  came  to  a  halt 
at  a  command  from  the  leader,  and  Frank  noticed  with 
alarm  that  they  had  stopped  beneath  a  large  tree,  with 
wide-spreading  branches. 

"This  looks  bad  for  us,  old  man,"  he  whispered  to 
Barney. 

"Thot's  pwhat  it  does,  Frankie,"  admitted  the  Irish  lad. 
"Oi  fale  throuble  coming  this  way." 

The  horsemen  formed  a  circle  about  the  captives,  mov 
ing  at  a  signal  from  the  leader,  who  did  not  seem  inclined 
to  waste  words. 

"Brothers  o'  ther  Black  Caps,"  said  the  leader,  "what 
is  ther  fate  we-uns  gives  ter  revenues?" 

"Death!" 

Every  man  in  the  circle  uttered  the  word,  and  they 
spoke  all  together.  It  sounded  dismal  and  blood-chilling. 


Facing  Death.  225 

"Right,"  bowed  the  leader.  "Now,  why  are  we  assem 
bled  ter-night?" 

"Ter  dispose  o'  spies,"  chorused  the  Black  Caps. 

"Where  are  they?" 

"Thar!" 

Each  one  of  the  black-hooded  band  extended  a  hand 
and  pointed  straight  at  the  captive  boys. 

"How  shall  they  be  disposed  uv?"  asked  the  leader. 

"They  shall  be  hanged,"  solemnly  said  the  men. 

"Good !"  cried  the  leader,  as  if  well  satisfied.  "Produce 
ther  rope." 

In  a  moment  one  of  the  men  brought  forth  a  rope. 
This  was  long  enough  to  serve  for  both  boys,  and  it  was 
quickly  cut  in  two  pieces,  while  skillful  hands  proceeded 
to  form  nooses. 

"Frankie,"  said  Barney  Mulloy,  sadly,  "we're  done  for." 

"It  looks  that  way,"  Frank  was  forced  to  admit. 

"Oi  wouldn't  moind  so  much,"  said  the  Irish  lad,  rue 
fully,  "av  we  could  kick  th'  booket  foighting  fer  our 
loives ;  but  it  is  a  bit  harrud  ter  go  under  widout  a  chance 
to  lift  a  hand." 

"That's  right,"  cried  Frank,  as  he  strained  fiercely  at 
the  cords  which  held  his  hands  behind  his  back.  "It  is  the 
death  of  a  criminal,  and  I  object  to  it." 

The  leader  of  the  Black  Caps  rode  close  to  the  boys, 
leaned  forward  in  his  saddle,  and  hissed  in  Frank's  ear : 

"It's  my  turn  now!" 

"And  you  mean  to  murder  us  ?"  demanded  Frank,  pas 
sionately. 

"Not  murder,"  answered  the  man.  "We-uns  is  goin' 
ter  put  two  revenues  out  o'  ther  way,  that's  all !" 

"It's  murder,"  cried  Frank,  in  a  ringing  tone.  "You 
know  we  are  not  revenue  spies !  Men,  we  appeal  to  you. 
We  can  prove  that  we  are  what  we  claim  to  be — two  boys 
who  are  tramping  through  the  mountains  for  pleasure. 
Will  you  kill  us  without  giving  us  a  chance  to  prove  our 
innocence?" 

The  leader  laughed  harshly. 

"It's  ther  same  ol'  whine,"  he  said.  "Ther  revenues 
alwus  cry  baby  when  they're  caught.  You-uns  can't  fool 
us,  an'  we  ain't  got  time  ter  waste  with  ye.  Git  reddy, 
boys!" 


226  Facing  Death. 

About  the  boys'  necks  the  fatal  ropes  were  quickly  ad 
justed. 

"Stop!"  Frank  commanded.  "If  you  murder  us,  you 
will  find  you  have  not  killed  two  friendless  boys.  We 
have  friends — powerful  friends — who  will  follow  this  mat 
ter  up — who  will  investigate  it.  You  will  be  hunted 
down  and  punished  for  the  crime.  You  will  not  be  al 
lowed  to  escape !" 

Again  the  leader  laughed. 

"Pore  fool!"  he  sneered.  "Do  you-uns  think  ye're 
stronger  an'  more  po'erful  than  ther  United  States  Gov- 
er'ment  ?  Huah !  Ther  United  States  loses  her  spies,  an* 
she  can't  tell  who  disposed  o'  'em.  We  won't  be  worried 
by  all  yore  friends." 

He  made  another  movement,  and  the  rope  ends  were 
flung  over  a  limb  that  was  strong  enough  to  bear  both 
lads. 

Hope  was  dying  within  Frank  Merriwell's  breast.  At 
last  he  had  reached  the  end  of  his  adventurous  life,  which 
had  been  short  and  turbulent.  He  must  die  here  amid 
these  wild  mountains,  which  flung  themselves  up  against 
the  moonlit  sky,  and  the  only  friend  to  be  with  him  at 
the  end  was  the  faithful  friend  who  must  die  at  his  side. 

Frank's  blood  ran  cold  and  sluggish  in  his  veins.  The 
spring  night  had  seemed  warm  and  sweet,  filled  with  the 
droning  of  insects;  but  now  there  was  a  bitter  chill  in 
the  air,  and  the  white  moonlight  seemed  to  take  on  a 
crimson  tinge,  as  of  blood. 

The  boy's  nature  rebelled  against  the  thought  of  meet 
ing  death  in  such  a  manner.  It  was  spring-time  amid  the 
mountains;  with  him  it  was  the  spring-time  of  life.  He 
had  enjoyed  the  beautiful  world,  and  felt  strong  and 
brave  to  face  anything  that  might  come ;  but  this  he  had 
not  reckoned  on,  and  it  was  something  to  cause  the  stout 
est  heart  to  shake. 

Over  the  eastern  mountains,  craggy,  wild,  barren  or 
pine-clad,  the  gibbous  moon  swung  higher  and  higher. 
The  heavens  were  full  of  stars,  and  every  star  seemed 
to  be  an  eye  that  was  watching  to  witness  the  consum 
mation  of  the  tragedy  down  there  in  that  little  valley, 
through  which  Lost  Creek  flowed  on  to  its  unknown  des 
tination. 


Facing  Death.  227 

How  still  it  was ! 

The  silence  was  broken  by  a  sound  that  made  every 
black-hooded  man  start  and  listen. 

Sweet  and  mellow  and  musical,  from  afar  through  the 
peaceful  night,  came  the  clear  notes  of  a  bugle. 

Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar !    Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar ! 

A  fierce  exclamation  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  leader 
of  the  Black  Caps,  and  he  grated : 

"Muriel,  by  ther  livin'  gods!  He's  comin'  hyar! 
Quick,  boys — finish  this  job,  an'  git!" 

"Stop,  Wade  Miller!"  cried  Frank,  commandingly.  "If 
that  is  Muriel,  wait  for  him — let  him  pronounce  our  fate. 
He  is  the  chief  of  you  all,  and  he  shall  say  if  we  are 
revenue  spies." 

"Bah!  You-uns  know  too  much,  fer  yeVe  called  my 
name!  That  settles  ye!  Ye  must  hang  anyway,  now!'* 

Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar ! 

From  much  nearer,  came  the  sound  of  the  bugle,  awak 
ening  hundreds  of  mellow  echoes,  which  were  flung  from 
crag  to  crag  till  it  seemed  that  the  mountains  were  alive 
with  buglers. 

The  clatter  of  a  horse's  iron-shod  feet  could  be  heard, 
telling  that  the  rider  was  coming  like  the  wind  down  the 
valley. 

"Cut  free  ther  feet  o'  ther  pris'ners !"  panted  the  leader 
of  the  Black  Caps.  "Work  quick!  Muriel  will  be  here 
in  a  few  shakes,  an'  we-uns  must  be  done.  All  ready  thar'l 
Up  with  'em !" 

The  fatal  moment  had  arrived ! 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

MURIEL. 

Ta-ra-tar !    Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar ! 

Through  the  misty  moonlight  a  coal-black  horse,  bear 
ing  a  rider  who  once  more  awakens  the  clamoring  echoes 
with  his  bugle,  comes  tearing  at  a  mad  gallop. 

"Up  with  'em!"  repeats  Wade  Miller,  fiercely,  as  the 
black-hooded  men  seem  to  hesitate. 

The  ropes  tighten. 

"Stop!" 

One  of  the  men  utters  the  command,  and  his  compan 
ions  hesitate. 

"Muriel  is  death  on  revernues,"  says  the  one  who  had 
spoken,  "an'  thar  ain't  any  reason  why  we-uns  shouldn't 
wait  fer  him." 

"That's  so." 

More  than  half  the  men  agree  with  the  one  who  has 
interrupted  the  execution,  filling  Wade  Miller  with  unut 
terable  rage. 

"Fools!"  snarled  the  chief  ruffian  of  the  party.  "I 
am  leadin'  you-uns  now,  an'  ye've  gotter  do  ez  I  say.  I 
order  ye  ter  string  them  critters  up !" 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  clattering  hoof-beats. 

"Av  we  can  have  wan  minute  more !"  breathed  Barney 
Mulloy. 

"Half  a  minute  will  do,"  returned  Frank. 

"We  refuse  ter  obey  ye  now,"  boldly  spoke  the  man 
who  had  commanded  his  companions  to  stop.  "Muriel 
has  signaled  ter  us,  an'  he  means  fer  us  ter  wait  till 
he-uns  arrives." 

"Wait!"  howled  Miller.    "They  sha'n't  escape!" 

He  snatched  out  a  revolver,  pointed  it  straight  at 
Frank's  breast,  and  fired ! 

Just  as  the  desperate  ruffian  was  pulling  the  trigger, 
the  man  nearest  him  struck  up  his  hand,  and  the  bullet 
passed  through  Frank's  hat,  knocking  it  to  the  ground. 

Miller  was  furious  as  a  maniac,  but,  at  this  moment,  the 


Muriel.  229 

black  horse  and  the  dashing  rider  burst  in  upon  the  scene, 
plunged  straight  through  the  circle,  halting  at  the  side 
of  the  imperiled  lads,  the  horse  being  flung  upon  its 
haunches. 

"Wai,  what  be  you-uns  doin'?"  demands  a  clear,  ring 
ing  voice.  "What  work  is  this,  that  I  don't  know  er- 
bout?" 

The  men  were  silent.  Wade  Miller  cowered  before  the 
chief  of  the  moonshiners,  trying  to  hide  the  revolver. 

Muriel's  eyes,  gleaming  through  the  twin  holes  of  the 
mask  he  wore,  found  Miller,  and  the  clear  voice  cried : 

"You-uns  has  been  lettin'  this  critter  lead  ye  inter 
somethin' !  An'  it's  fair  warnin'  I  gave  him  ter  keep 
clear  o'  meddlin'  with  my  business." 

The  boys  gazed  at  the  moonshiner  chief  in  amazement, 
for  Muriel  looked  no  more  than  a  boy  as  he  sat  there  on 
his  black  horse,  and  his  voice  seemed  the  voice  of  a  boy 
instead  of  that  of  a  man.  Yet  it  was  plain  that  he  gov 
erned  these  desperate  ruffians  of  the  mountains  with  a 
hand  of  iron,  and  they  feared  him. 

"We-uns  war  'bout  ter  hang  two  revernues,"  explained 
Miller. 

Muriel  looked  at  the  boys. 

"Revernues?"  he  said,  doubtfully.  "How  long  sence 
ther  gover'ment  has  been  sendin'  boys  hyar  ter  spy 
on  us  ?" 

"They  know  what  happens  ter  ther  men  they  send," 
muttered  Miller. 

"Wai,  'tain't  like  they'd  be  sendin'  boys  arter  men 
failed." 

"That's  ther  way  they  hope  ter  fool  us." 

"An'  how  do  you  know  them-uns  is  revernues?" 

"We  jest  s'picions  it." 

"An5  you-uns  war  hangin'  'em  on  s'picion,  'thout  lettin* 
me  know  ?" 

"We  never  knows  whar  ter  find  ye,  Muriel." 

"That  is  nary  excuse,  fer  ef  you-uns  had  held  them-uns 
a  day  I'd  knowed  it.  It  looks  like  you-uns  war  in  a  mon- 
str'us  hurry." 

"It  war  he-uns,"  declared  one  of  the  black  hoods,  point 
ing  to  Miller.  "He-uns  war  in  ther  hurry." 


230  Muriel. 

"We  don't  generly  waste  much  time  in  dinkerin'  'roun* 
with  anybody  we-uns  thinks  is  revernues,"  said  Miller. 

"Wai,  we  ain't  got  ther  record  o'  killin'  innercent  boys, 
an'  we  don't  begin  now.  Take  ther  ropes  off  their  necks." 

Two  men  hastened  to  obey  the  order,  while  Miller  sat 
and  grated  his  teeth.  As  this  was  being  done,  Muriel 
asked : 

"What  war  you-uns  doin'  with  that  revolver  when  I 
come?  I  heard  ye  shoot,  an'  I  saw  ther  flash.  Who  did 
you-uns  shoot  at  ?" 

Miller  stammered  and  stuttered  till  Muriel  repeated  the 
question,  his  voice  cold  and  hard,  despite  its  boyish  cal 
iber. 

"Wai,"  said  Wade,  reluctantly,  "I'll  have  ter  tell  yer. 
I  shot  at  he-uns,"  and  he  pointed  at  Frank. 

"I  thought  so,"  was  all  Muriel  said. 

When  the  ropes  were  removed  from  the  necks  of  the 
boys,  Muriel  directed  that  their  feet  be  tied  again,  and 
their  eyes  blindfolded. 

These  orders  were  attended  to  with  great  swiftness, 
and  then  the  moonshiner  chief  said: 

"Follow !" 

Out  they  rode  from  beneath  the  tree,  and  away  through 
the  misty  moonlight. 

Frank  and  Barney  could  not  see,  but  they  felt  well  sat 
isfied  with  their  lot,  for  they  had  been  saved  from  death 
for  the  time  being,  and,  somehow,  they  felt  that  Muriel 
did  not  mean  to  harm  them. 

"Frank,"  whispered  Barney,  "are  yez  there?" 

"Here,"  replied  Frank,  close  at  hand. 

"It's  dead  lucky  we  are  to  be  livin',  me  b'y." 

"You  are  quite  correct,  Barney.  I  feel  like  singing  a 
song  of  praise  and  thanksgiving.  But  we're  not  out  of 
the  woods  yet." 

"Thot  Muriel  is  a  dandy,  Frankie !  Oi'm  shtuck  on  his 
stoyle." 

"He  is  no  more  than  a  boy.  I  wonder  how  he  hap 
pened  to  appear  at  such  an  opportune  moment  ?" 

"Nivver  a  bit  do  Oi  know,  but  it's  moighty  lucky  fer 
us  thot  he  did." 

Frank  fell  to  speculating  over  the  providential  appear 
ance  of  the  moonshiner  chief.  It  was  plain  that  Muriel 


Muriel.  231 

must  have  known  that  something  was  happening,  and  he 
had  signaled  with  the  bugle  to  the  Black  Caps.  In  all 
probability,  other  executions  had  taken  place  beneath  that 
very  tree,  for  the  young  chief  came  there  direct,  without 
hesitation. 

For  nearly  an  hour  they  seemed  to  ride  through  the 
night,  and  then  they  halted.  The  boys  were  removed 
from  the  horses  and  compelled  to  march  into  some  kind 
of  a  building. 

After  some  moments,  their  hands  were  freed,  and,  tear 
ing  away  the  blindfolds,  they  found  themselves  in  a  low, 
square  room,  with  no  windows,  and  a  single  door. 

With  his  back  to  the  door,  stood  Muriel. 

The  light  of  a  swinging  oil  lamp  illumined  the  room. 

Muriel  leaned  gracefully  against  the  door,  his  arms 
folded,  and  his  eyes  gleaming  where  the  lamplight  shone 
on  them  through  the  twin  holes  in  the  sable  mask. 

The  other  moonshiners  had  disappeared,  and  the  boys 
were  alone  in  that  room  with  the  chief  of  the  mountain 
desperadoes. 

There  was  something  strikingly  cool  and  self-reliant  in 
Muriel's  manner — something  that  caused  Frank  to  think 
that  the  fellow,  young  as  he  was,  feared  nothing  on  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

At  the  same  time  there  was  no  air  of  bravado  or  inso 
lence  about  that  graceful  pose  and  the  quiet  manner  in 
which  he  was  regarding  them.  Instead  of  that,  the  moon 
shiner  was  a  living  interrogation  point,  everything  about 
him  seeming  to  speak  the  question  that  fell  from  his  lips. 

"Are  you-uns  revernues  ?" 

"Why  do  you  ask  us?"  Frank  quickly  counter  ques 
tioned.  "You  must  know  that  we  will  lie  if  we  are,  and 
so  you  will  hear  our  denial  anyway.  That  can  give  you 
little  satisfaction." 

"Look  hyar — she  tol'  me  fair  an'  squar'  that  you-uns 
warn't  revernues,  but  I  dunno  how  she  could  tell." 

"Of  whom  are  you  speaking?" 

Frank  fancied  that  he  knew,  but  he  put  the  question, 
and  Muriel  answered: 

"Ther  gal  that  saved  yore  lives  by  comin'  ter  me  an' 
tellin'  me  ther  boys  had  taken  you  outer  her  mammy's 
house." 


232  Muriel. 

"KateKenyon?" 

"Yes." 

"God  bless  her !  She  did  save  our  lives,  for  if  you  had 
been  one  minute  later  you  would  not  have  arrived  in  time. 
Dear  girl !  I'll  not  forget  her !" 

Muriel  moved  uneasily,  and  he  did  not  seem  pleased  by 
Frank's  words,  although  his  face  could  not  be  seen.  It 
was  some  moments  before  he  spoke,  but  his  voice  was 
strangely  cold  and  hard  when  he  did  so. 

"It's  well  ernough  fer  you-uns  ter  remember  her,  but 
ye'd  best  take  car'  how  ye  speak  o'  her.  She's  got  friends 
in  ther  maountings — true  friends." 

Frank  was  startled,  and  he  felt  the  hot  blood  rush  to 
his  face.  Then,  in  a  moment,  he  cried : 

"Friends !  Well,  she  has  no  truer  friends  than  the  boys 
she  saved  to-night !  I  hope  you  will  not  misconstrue  our 
words,  Mr.  Muriel." 

A  sound  like  a  smothered  laugh  came  from  behind  that 
baffling  mask,  and  Muriel  said : 

"Yo're  hot-blooded.  I  war  simply  warnin'  you-uns  in 
advance,  that's  all.  I  thought  it  war  best." 

"It  was  quite  unnecessary.  We  esteem  Miss  Kenyon 
too  highly  to  say  anything  that  can  give  a  friend  of  hers 
just  cause  to  strike  against  us." 

"Wai,  city  chaps  are  light  o'  tongue,  an'  they're  apt  ter 
think  that  ev'ry  maounting  girl  is  a  fool  ef  she  don't  have 
book  learnin'.  Some  city  chaps  make  their  boast  how 
easy  they  kin  'mash'  such  gals.  Anything  like  that  would 
count  agin'  you-uns." 

Frank  was  holding  himself  in  check  with  an  effort. 

"It  is  plain  you  do  not  know  us,  and  you  have  greatly 
misjudged  us.  We  are  not  in  the  mountains  to  make 
'mashes,'  and  we  are  not  the  kind  to  boast  of  our  con 
quests." 

"Thot's  right,  me  jool!"  growled  Barney,  whose  tem 
per  was  started  a  bit.  "An'  it's  mesilf  thot  loikes  to  be 
suspected  av  such  a  thing.  It  shtirs  me  foighting  blud." 

The  Irish  lad  clinched  his  fist,  and  felt  of  his  muscle, 
moving  his  forearm  up  and  down,  and  scowling  blackly 
at  the  cool  chief  of  moonshiners,  as  if  longing  to  thump 
the  fellow. 


Muriel.  233 

This  seemed  to  amuse  Muriel,  but  still  he  persisted  in 
further  arousing  the  lads  by  saying,  insinuatingly : 

"I  war  led  ter  b'lieve  that  Kate  war  ruther  interested 
in  you-uns  by  her  manner.  Thar  don't  no  maounting  gal 
take  so  much  trouble  over  strangers  fer  nothin' !" 

Frank  bit  his  lip,  and  Barney  looked  blacker  than  ever. 
It  seemed  that  Muriel  was  trying  to  draw  them  into  a  trap 
of  some  sort,  and  they  were  growing  suspicious.  Had  this 
young  leader  of  mountain  ruffians  rescued  them  that  he 
might  find  just  cause  or  good  excuse  to  put  them  out  of 
the  way? 

The  boys  were  silent,  and  Muriel  forced  a  laugh. 

"Wai,  ye  won't  talk  about  that,  an'  so  we'll  go  onter 
somethin'  else.  I  judge  you-uns  know  yo're  in  a  po'erful 
bad  scrape?" 

"We  have  good  reasons  to  think  so." 

"Begorra !  we  have  thot !"  exclaimed  Barney,  feeling  of 
his  neck,  and  making  a  wry  face,  as  if  troubled  by  an  un 
pleasant  recollection. 

"It  is  a  scrape  that  you-uns  may  not  be  able  ter  git  out 
of  easy,"  Muriel  said.  "I  war  able  ter  save  yer  from 
bein'  hung  'thout  any  show  at  all,  but  ye're  not  much  bet 
ter  off  now." 

"If  you  were  powerful  enough  to  save  us  in  the  first 
place,  you  should  be  able  to  get  us  out  of  the  scrape  en 
tirely." 

"You-uns  don't  know  all  about  it.  Moonshiners  have 
laws  an'  regulations,  an'  even  ther  leader  must  stan'  by 
them." 

Frank  was  still  troubled  by  the  unpleasant  suspicion 
that  Muriel  was  their  enemy,  after  all  that  had  happened. 
He  felt  that  they  must  guard  their  tongues,  for  there  was 
no  telling  what  expression  the  fellow  might  distort  and 
turn  against  them. 

Seeing  neither  of  the  lads  was  going  to  speak,  Muriel 
went  on : 

"Yes,  moonshiners  have  laws  and  regulations.  Ther 
boys  came  nigh  breakin'  one  o'  ther  laws  by  hangin'  you- 
uns  ter-night  'thout  givin'  ye  a  show." 

"Then  we  are  to  have  a  fair  deal  ?"  eagerly  cried  Frank. 

"Ez  fair  ez  anybody  gits,"  assured  Muriel,  tossing  back 
a  lock  of  his  coal-black  hair,  which  he  wore  long  enough 


234  Muriel. 

to  fall  to  the  collar  of  his  coat.  "Ain't  that  all  ye  kjn 
ask?" 

"I  don't  know.  That  depends  on  what  kind  of  a  deal 
it  is." 

"Wall,  ye'll  be  given  yore  choice." 

"We  demand  a  fair  trial.  If  it  is  proven  that  we  are 
revenue  spies,  we'll  have  to  take  our  medicine.  But  if  it 
is  not  proven,  we  demand  immediate  release." 

"Take  my  advice ;  don't  demand  anything  o'  ther  Black 
Caps.  Ther  more  ye  demand,  ther  less  ye  git." 

"We  have  a  right  to  demand  a  fair  deal." 

"Right  don't  count  in  this  case;  it  is  might  that  holds 
ther  fort.  You-uns  stirred  up  a  tiger  ag'in'  ye  when  you 
made  Wade  Miller  mad.  It's  a  slim  show  that  ye  escape 
ef  we-uns  lets  yer  go  instanter.  He'd  foller  yer,  an'  he'd 
finish  yer  somewhar." 

"We  will  take  our  chances  on  that.  We  have  taken 
care  of  ourselves  so  far,  and  we  think  we  can  continue 
to  do  so.  All  we  ask  is  that  we  be  set  at  liberty  and 
given  our  weapons." 

"An'  ye'd  be  found  with  yer  throats  cut  within  ten  miles 
o'  hyar." 

"That  would  not  be  your  fault." 

"Wai,  'cordin'  to  our  rules,  ye  can't  be  released  onless 
ther  vote  ur  ther  card  sez  so." 

"The  vote  or  the  cards  ?    What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"Wai,  it's  like  this:  Ef  it's  put  ter  vote,  one  black 
bean  condemns  you-uns  ter  death,  an'  ev'ry  man  votes 
black  ur  white,  as  he  chooses.  I  don't  judge  you-uns  care 
ter  take  yer  chances  that  way?" 

"Howly  Sint  Patherick !"  gurgled  Barney  Mulloy.  "Oi 
sh'u'd  soay  not !  Ixchuse  us  from  thot,  me  hearty !" 

"That  would  be  as  bad  as  murder!"  exclaimed  Frank. 
"There  would  be  one  vote  against  us — one  black  bean 
thrown,  at  least." 

Muriel  nodded. 

"I  judge  you-uns  is  right." 

"Pwhat  av  th'  carruds?" 

"Yes,  what  of  them  ?" 

"Two  men  will  be  chosen,  one  ter  hold  a  pack  o'  cards, 
and  one  to  draw  a  card  from  them.  Ef  ther  card  is  red, 


Muriel.  235 

it  lets  you-uns  off,  fer  it  means  life;  ef  it  is  black,  it 
cooks  yer,  fer  it  means  death." 

The  boys  were  silent,  dumfounded,  appalled. 

It  was  a  lottery  of  life  and  death. 

Muriel  stood  watching  them,  and  Frank  fancied  that 
his  eyes  were  gleaming  with  satisfaction.  The  boy  began 
to  believe  he  had  mistaken  the  character  of  this  astonish 
ing  youth;  Muriel  might  be  even  worse  than  his  older 
companions,  for  he  might  be  one  who  delighted  in  tor 
turing  his  victims. 

Frank  threw  back  his  head,  defiance  and  scorn  written 
on  his  handsome  face. 

"It  is  a  clean  case  of  murder,  at  best!"  he  cried,  his 
voice  ringing  out  clearly.  "We  deserve  a  fair  trial — we 
demand  it !" 

"Wai,"  drawled  the  boy  moonshiner,  "I  warned  you- 
uns  that  ther  more  yer  demanded,  ther  less  yer  got.  Ye 
seem  ter  fergit  that." 

"We're  in  fur  it,  Frankie,  me  b'y !"  groaned  Barney. 

"If  we  had  our  revolvers,  we'd  give  them  a  stiff  fight 
for  it !"  grated  Frank,  fiercely.  "They  would  not  murder 
us  till  a  few  of  them  had  eaten  lead !" 

Muriel  seemed  to  nod  with  satisfaction. 

"You-uns  has  stuff,  an'  when  I  tell  yer  that  ye'll  have 
ter  sta'  ter  vote  ur  take  chances  with  ther  cards,  I  don't 
judge  you'll  hesitate.  It's  one  ur  t'other." 

"Then,  make  it  the  cards,"  said  Frank,  hoarsely.  "That 
will  give  us  an  even  show,  if  the  draw  is  a  fair  one." 

"I'll  see  ter  that,"  assured  Muriel.    "It  shall  be  fair." 

Without  another  word,  he  turned  and  swiftly  slipped 
out  of  the  room.  They  heard  him  bar  the  door,  and  then 
they  stood  looking  into  each  other's  faces,  speechless  for 
a  few  moments. 

"It's  a  toss-up,  Barney,"  Frank  finally  observed. 

"Thot's  pwhat  it  is,  an'  th'  woay  our  luck  is  runnin'  Oi 
think  it's  a  case  av  heads  they  win  an'  tails  we  lose." 

"It  looks  that  way,"  admitted  Frank.  "But  there  is  no 
way  out  of  it.  We'll  have  to  grin  and  bear  it." 

"Pwhat  do  yez  think  av  thot  Muriel  ?" 

"He's  an  enigma." 

"Worse  than  thot,  me  b'y — he's  a  cat's  cradle  toied  in 
a  hundred  an'  sivintane  knots." 


236 


Muriel. 


"It  is  impossible  to  tell  whether  he  is  friendly  or 
\vhether  he  is  the  worst  foe  we  have  in  these  mountains." 

"Oi  wonder  how  Kate  Kenyon  knew  where  to  foind 
him  so  quick?" 

"I  have  thought  of  that.  She  must  have  found  him  in 
a  very  short  time  after  we  were  taken  from  the  cabin." 

"An'  she  diskivered  thot  we  hed  been  taken  away 
tnoighty  soon  afther  we  wur  gone,  me  b'y.  Thot  is  sure." 

"Remember  one  of  the  horses  neighed.  It  may  have 
aroused  Kate  and  her  mother,  and  caused  them  to  inves 
tigate." 

"Loikely  thot  wur  th'  case,  fer  it's  not  mesilf  thot  would 
think  she'd  kape  shtill  an'  let  ther  spalpanes  drag  us  away 
av  she  knew  it." 

"No ;  I  believe  her  utterly  fearless,  and  it  is  plain  that 
IWade  Miller  is  not  the  only  one  in  love  with  her." 

"Who  ilse?" 

"Muriel." 

"Mebbe  ye're  roight,  Frankie." 

"It  strikes  me  that  way.  The  fellow  tried  to  lead  me 
into  a  trap — tried  to  get  me  to  boast  of  a  mash  on  her.  I 
could  see  his  eyes  gleam  with  jealousy.  In  her  eagerness 
to  save  us — to  have  him  aid  her  in  the  work — she  must 
have  led  him  to  suspect  that  one  of  us  had  been  making 
love  to  her." 

Barney  whistled  a  bit,  and  then  he  shyly  said : 

"Oi  wunder  av  wan  of  us  didn't  do  a  bit  av  thot  ?" 

"Not  I,"  protested  Frank.  "We  talked  in  a  friendly 
manner — in  fact,  she  promised  to  be  a  friend  to  me.  I 
may  have  expressed  admiration  for  her  hair,  or  some 
thing  of  the  sort,  but  I  vow  I  did  not  make  love  to  her." 

"Well,  me  b'y,  ye  have  a  thrick  av  gettin'  all  th'  girruls 
shtuck  on  yez  av  ye  look  at  thim,  so  ye  didn't  nade  ter 
make  love." 

"It's  not  my  fault,  Barney." 

"It's  nivver  a  fault  at  all,  at  all,  me  lad.  Oi  wish  Oi 
wur  built  th'  soame  woay,  but  it's  litthle  oice  I  cut  wid 
th'  girruls.  This  south  av  Oireland  brogue  thot  Oi  foind 
mesilf  unable  to  shake  counts  against  me  a  bit,  Oi  be- 
lave." 

"I  should  think  Miller  and  Muriel  would  clash." 

"It's  plain  enough  that  Miller  is  afraid  av  Muriel." 


Muriel.  237 

"And  Muriel  intends  to  keep  him  thus.  I  fancy  it  was 
a  good  thing  for  us  that  Kate  Kenyon  suspected  Wade 
Miller  of  having  a  hand  in  our  capture,  and  told  Muriel 
that  we  had  been  carried  off  by  him,  for  I  fancy  that  is 
exactly  what  happened.  Muriel  was  angry  with  Miller, 
and  he  seized  the  opportunity  to  call  the  fellow  down. 
But  for  that,  he  might  not  have  made  such  a  hustle  to 
save  us." 

"Thin  we  should  be  thankful  thot  Muriel  an'  Miller 
do  not  love  ache  ither." 

The  boys  continued  to  discuss  the  situation  for  some 
time,  and  then  they  fell  to  examining  the  room  in  which 
they  were  imprisoned.  It  did  not  seem  to  have  a  window 
anywhere,  and  the  single  door  appeared  to  be  the  only 
means  of  entering  or  leaving  the  place. 

"There's  little  show  of  escaping  from  this  room,"  said 
Frank. 

"Roight  ye  are,"  nodded  Barney.  "This  wur  built  to 
kape  iverything  safe  thot  came  in  here." 

A  few  minutes  later  there  was  a  sound  at  the  door, 
and  Muriel  came  in,  with  two  of  the  Black  Caps  at  his 
neels. 

"Ther  boys  have  agreed  ter  give  ye  ther  chance  o'  ther 
cards,"  said  the  boy  moonshiner.  "An'  yo're  goin'  ter 
have  a  fair  an'  squar'  deal." 

"We  will  have  to  submit,"  said  Frank,  quietly. 

"You  will  have  ter  let  ther  boys  bind  yer  hands  afore 
ye  leave  this  room,"  said  Muriel. 

The  men  each  held  the  end  of  a  stout  rope,  and  the  boys 
were  forced  to  submit  to  the  inconvenience  of  having 
their  hands  bound  behind  them.  Barney  protested,  but 
Frank  kept  silent,  knowing  it  was  useless  to  say  any 
thing. 

When  their  hands  were  tied,  Muriel  said : 

"Follow." 

He  led  the  way,  while  Frank  came  next,  with  Barney 
shuffling  sulkily  along  at  his  heels.  The  two  men  came 
last. 

They  passed  through  a  dark  room  and  entered  another 
room,  which  was  lighted  by  three  oil  lamps.  The  room 
was  well  rilled  with  the  black-hooded  moonshiners,  who 


238  Muriel. 

were  standing  in  a  grim  and  silent  circle,  with  their  backs 
against  the  walls. 

Into  the  center  of  this  circle  the  boys  were  marched 
The  door  closed,  and  Muriel  addressed  the  Black  Caps. 

"It  is  not  often  that  we-uns  gives  our  captives  ther 
choice  uv  ther  cards  or  ther  vote,  but  we  have  agreed 
ter  do  so  in  this  case,  with  only  one  objectin',  an'  he  war 
induced  ter  change  his  mind.  Now  we  mean  ter  have  this 
fair  an'  squar',  an'  I  call  on  ev'ry  man  present  ter  watch 
out  an'  see  that  it  is.  Ther  men  has  been  serlected,  one 
ter  hold  ther  cards  an'  one  ter  draw.  Let  them  step  for- 
rud." 

Two  of  the  Black  Caps  stepped  out,  and  Frank  started 
a  bit,  for  he  believed  one  of  them  was  Wade  Miller. 

A  pack  of  cards  was  produced,  and  Muriel  shuffled 
them  with  a  skill  that  told  of  experience,  after  which  he 
handed  them  to  one  of  the  men. 

Miller  was  to  draw ! 

Frank  watched  every  move,  determined  to  detect  the 
fraud  if  possible,  should  there  be  any  fraud. 

An  awed  hush  seemed  to  settle  over  the  room. 

The  men  who  wore  the  black  hoods  leaned  forward  a 
little,  every  one  of  them  watching  to  see  what  card  should 
be  drawn  from  the  pack. 

Barney  Mulloy  caught  his  breath  with  a  gasping  sound, 
and  then  was  silent,  standing  stiff  and  straight. 

Muriel  was  as  alert  as  a  panther,  and  his  eyes  gleamed 
through  the  holes  in  his  mask  like  twin  stars. 

The  man  who  received  the  pack  from  Muriel  stepped 
forward,  and  Miller  reached  out  his  hand  to  draw. 

Then  Frank  suddenly  cried: 

"Wait !  That  we  may  be  satisfied  we  are  having  a  fair 
show  in  this  matter,  why  not  permit  one  of  us  to  shuffle 
those  cards  ?" 

Quick  as  a  flash  of  light,  Muriel's  hand  fell  on  the 
wrist  of  the  man  who  held  the  cards,  and  his  clear  voice 
rang  out : 

"Stop !    Unbind  his  hands.    He  shall  shuffle." 

Frank's  hands  were  unbound,  and  he  was  given  the 
cards.  He  shuffled  them,  but  he  did  not  handle  them 
with  more  skill  than  had  Muriel.  He  "shook  them  up" 


Muriel.  239 

thoroughly,  and  then  passed  them  back  to  the  man  who 
was  to  hold  them. 

"Bind  him !" 

Muriel's  order  was  swiftly  obeyed,  and  Frank  was 
again  helpless. 

"Draw !" 

The  cards  were  extended.  Wade  Miller  reached  out, 
and  quickly  made  the  draw,  holding  the  fateful  card  up 
for  all  to  see. 

It  was  the  ace  of  spades ! 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

SAVED! 

"Death!" 

From  beneath  the  black  hoods  sounded  the  terrible 
word,  as  the  man  beheld  the  black  card  which  was  ex- 
posed  to  view. 

The  boys  were  doomed ! 

Frank's  heart  dropped  like  a  stone  into  the  depths  of  his 
bosom,  but  no  sound  came  from  his  lips. 

Barney  Mulloy  showed  an  equal  amount  of  nerve.  In 
deed,  the  Irish  lad  laughed  recklessly  as  he  cried: 

"It's  nivver  a  show  we  had  at  all,  at  all,  Frankie.  Th' 
snakes  had  it  fixed  fer  us  all  th'  toime." 

"Hold  on  thar!" 

The  words  came  from  Muriel,  and  the  boy  chief  of  the 
moonshiners  made  a  spring  and  a  grab,  snatching  the 
card  from  Miller's  hand. 

"Look  hyar!"  he  cried.  "This  won't  do!  Let's  give 
ther  critters  a  fair  show." 

"Do  you  mean  ter  say  they  didn't  have  a  fair  show?" 
demanded  Wade  Miller,  fiercely.  "Do  you  say  that  I 
cheated  ?" 

"Not  knowin'  it,"  answered  Muriel.  "But  ther  draw 
warn't  fair,  jes'  ther  same." 

"Warn't  fair!"  snarled  Miller,  furiously.    "Why  not?" 

"Because  two  cards  war  drawed!"  rang  out  the  voice 
of  the  masked  youth.  "Look — hyar  they  be !  One  is  ther 
ace  o'  spades,  an'  ther  other  is  ther  nine  o'  hearts." 

Exclamations  of  astonishment  came  from  all  sides,  and 
a  ray  of  hope  shot  into  Frank  Merriwell's  heart. 

"Did  I  draw  two  cards?"  muttered  Miller,  as  if  sur 
prised.  "Wai,  what  o'  that?  Ther  black  card  war  the? 
one  exposed,  an'  that  settles  what'll  be  done  with  ther 
spies." 

"It  don't  settle  it !"  declared  Muriel,  promptly.  "Them 
boys  is  goin'  ter  have  a  squar'  show." 

It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Miller  held  him 
self  in  check.  His  hands  were  clinched,  and  Frank  fan 
cied  that  he  longed  to  spring  upon  Muriel. 


Saved!  241 

The  boy  chief  was  very  cool  as  he  took  the  pack  of 
cards  from  the  hand  of  the  man  who  had  held  them. 

"Release  one  of  the  prisoners,"  was  his  command.  "The 
cards  shall  be  shuffled  again." 

Once  more  Frank's  hands  were  freed,  and  again  the 
cards  were  given  him  to  shuffle.  He  mixed  them  deftly, 
without  saying  a  word,  and  gave  them  back  to  Muriel. 
Then  his  hands  were  tied,  and  he  awaited  the  second 
drawing. 

"Be  careful  an'  not  get  two  cards  this  time,"  warned 
Muriel  as  he  faced  Miller.  "This  draw  settles  ther  busi 
ness  fer  them-uns." 

The  cards  were  given  to  the  man  who  was  to  hold 
them,  and  Miller  stepped  forward  to  draw. 

Again  the  suspense  became  great,  again  the  men  leaned 
forward  to  see  the  card  that  should  be  pulled  from  the 
pack ;  again  the  hearts  of  the  captives  stood  still. 

Miller  hesitated.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  the  tide  had 
turned  against  him.  For  a  .moment  he  was  tempted  to 
refuse  to  draw,  and  then,  with  a  muttered  exclamation,  he 
pulled  a  card  from  the  pack  and  held  it  up  to  view.  Then, 
with  a  bitter  cry  of  baffled  rage,  he  flung  it  madly  to  the 
floor. 

It  was  the  queen  of  hearts ! 

Each  man  in  the  room  seemed  to  draw  a  deep  breath. 
It  was  plain  that  some  were  disappointed,  and  some  were 
well  satisfied. 

"That  settles  it !"  said  Muriel,  calmly.  "They-uns  won't 
be  put  out  o'  ther  way  ter-night." 

"Settles  it!"  snarled  Miller,  furious  with  disappoint 
ment.  "It  war  settled  afore!  I  claim  that  ther  first 
draw  counts." 

"An'  I  claim  that  it  don't,"  returned  the  youthful  moon 
shiner,  without  lifting  his  voice  in  the  least.  "You-uns  all 
agreed  ter  ther  second  draw,  an'  that  lets  them  off." 

"Oh,  you  have  worked  it  slick !"  grated  the  disappointed 
Black  Cap.  "But  them  critters  ain't  out  o'  ther  maount- 
ings  yit!" 

"By  that  yer  mean — jes'  what  ?" 

"They're  not  liable  ter  git  out  alive." 

"Ef  they-uns  is  killed,  I'll  know  whar  ter  look  fer  ther 
one  as  war  at  ther  bottom  o'  ther  job — an'  I'll  look !" 


242  Saved ! 

Muriel  did  not  bluster,  and  he  did  not  speak  above  an 
ordinary  tone,  but  it  was  plain  that  he  meant  every  word. 

"Wai,"  muttered  Miller,  "what  do  ye  mean  ter  do  with 
them  critters — turn  'em  out,  an'  let  'em  bring  ther  officers 
down  on  us  ?" 

"No.  I'm  goin'  ter  keep  'em  till  they  kin  be  escorted 
out  o'  ther  maountings.  Thar  ain't  time  ter-night,  fer  it's 
gittin'  toward  mornin'.  Ter-morrer  night  it  can  be  done." 

Miller  said  no  more.  He  seemed  to  know  it  was  useless 
to  make  further  talk,  but  Frank  and  Barney  knew  that 
they  were  not  yet  out  of  danger. 

The  boys  seemed  as  cool  as  any  one  in  the  room,  for  all 
of  the  deadly  peril  they  had  passed  through,  and  Muriel 
nodded  in  a  satisfied  way  when  he  had  looked  them  over. 

"Come,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "you-uns  will  have 
ter  go  back  ter  ther  room  whar  ye  war  a  bit  ago." 

They  were  willing  to  go  back,  and  it  was  with  no  small 
amount  of  relief  that  they  allowed  themselves  to  be  es 
corted  to  the  apartment. 

Muriel  dismissed  the  two  guards,  and  then  he  set  the 
hands  of  the  boys  free. 

"Thar  ye  are,"  he  said.    "Yo're  all  right  fer  now." 

"Thanks  to  you,"  bowed  Frank.  "I  want  to  make  an 
apology." 

"Fer  what?" 

"Suspecting  you  of  double-dealing." 

"You-uns  did  suspect  me?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"It  looked  that  way  once.  It  seemed  that  you  had 
saved  us  from  being  hanged,  but  that  you  intended  to 
finish  us  here." 

"Ef  that  war  my  scheme,  why  did  I  take  ther  trouble 
ter  save  ye  at  all  ?" 

"It  looked  as  if  you  did  so  to  please  Miss  Kenyon. 
You  had  saved  us,  and  then,  if  the  men  disposed  of  us  in 
the  regular  manner,  you  would  not  be  to  blame." 

Muriel  shook  back  his  long,  black  hair,  and  his  man 
ner  showed  that  he  was  angry.  He  did  not  feel  at  all 
pleased  to  know  his  sincerity  had  been  doubted. 

"Wai,"  he  said,  slowly,  "ef  it  hadn't  been  fer  me  you- 
uns  would  be  gone  coons  now." 


Saved !  243 

"Begobs!  we  know  thot!"  exclaimed  Barney. 

"You-uns  know  I  saved  ye,  but  ye  don't  know  how 
1  done  it." 

There  was  something  of  bitterness  and  reproach  in  the 
yoice  of  the  youthful  moonshiner.  He  continued : 

"I  done  that  fer  you  I  never  done  before  fer  no  man. 
I  wouldn't  a  done  it  fer  myself!" 

Frank  wondered  what  the  strange  youth  could  mean. 

"Do  you-uns  want  ter  know  what  I  done  ?"  asked  Mu 
riel. 

"Yes." 

"I  cheated." 

"Cheated?" 

"Yes." 

"How?" 

"When  I  snatched  ther  first  card  drawn  from  ther  hand 
o'  ther  man  what  drawed  it.  It  war  ther  ace  o'  spades,  an' 
it  condemned  yer  ter  die." 

"But  there  were  two  cards  drawn." 

"No !    Thar  war  one  card  drawed,  an'  that  war  all !" 

"But — but  you  showed  two!" 

Muriel  nodded. 

"That  war  whar  I  cheated,"  he  said,  simply.  "I  had 
ther  red  card  in  my  hand  ready  ter  do  ther  trick  ef  a 
black  card  war  drawed.  In  that  way  I  knowed  I  could 
give  yer  two  shows  ter  escape  death." 

The  boys  were  astounded  by  this  revelation,  but  they 
did  not  doubt  that  Muriel  spoke  the  truth.  His  manner 
showed  that  he  was  not  telling  a  falsehood. 

And  this  strange  boy — this  remarkable  leader  of  moon 
shiners — had  done  such  a  thing  to  save  them ! 

More  than  ever,  they  marveled  at  the  fellow. 

Once  more  Muriel's  arms  were  folded  over  his  breast, 
and  he  was  leaning  gracefully  against  the  door,  his  eyes 
watching  their  faces. 

For  several  moments  both  boys  were  stricken  dumb 
with  wonder  and  surprise.  Frank  was  not  a  little  con 
fused,  thinking  as  he  did  how  he  had  misunderstood  this 
mysterious  youth.  Even  now  Frank  could  not  under 
stand  him.  It  seemed  most  unaccountable  that  he  should 
dp  such  a  thing  for  two  lads  who  were  utter  strangers  to 
him. 


244  Saved ! 

A  sound  like  a  bitter  laugh  came  from  behind  the  sable 
mask,  and  Muriel  flung  out  one  hand,  with  an  impatient 
gesture. 

"I  know  what  you-uns  is  thinkin'  of,"  declared  the 
young  moonshiner.  "Ye  wonder  why  I  done  so.  Wai,  I 
don't  jes'  know  myself,  but  I  promised  Kate  ter  do  my 
best  fer  ye." 

"You  have  kept  your  promise!"  cried  Frank,  "kept  it 
nobly!  Muriel,  you  may  be  a  moonshiner,  you  may  be 
the  leader  of  the  Black  Caps,  but  I  am  proud  to  know 
you !  I  believe  you  are  white  all  the  way  through !" 

"Thar!"  exclaimed  the  youth,  with  a  show  of  satisfac-; 
tion,  "that  makes  me  feel  better.  But  it  war  Kate  as  done 
it,  an'  she's  ther  one  ter  thank;  but  it  ain't  likely  you- 
uns'll  ever  see  her  ag'in." 

"Then,  tell  her,"  said  Frank,  swiftly,  "tell  her  for  us 
that  we  are  very  thankful — tell  her  we  shall  not  forget 
her.  I'll  never  forget  her." 

Muriel  moved  uneasily.  He  seemed  about  to  speak, 
and  then  checked  himself. 

"You  will  tell  her?"  said  Frank,  appealingly. 

"I'll  tell  her,"  nodded  Muriel,  his  voice  sounding  a  bit 
strange.  "Is  that  all  you-uns  want  me  ter  tell  her  ?" 

"Tell  her  I  would  give  much  to  see  her  again,"  came 
swiftly  from  Frank's  lips.  "She's  promised  to  be  my 
friend,  and  right  well  has  she  kept  that  promise." 

"That's  all?"  questioned  the  boy  moonshiner. 

"That  is  all." 

"Then  I'll  have  ter  leave  you-uns  now.  Take  it  as 
easy  as  yer  kin.  Breakfast  will  be  brought  ter  ye,  and 
when  another  night  comes,  a  guard  will  go  with  yer  out 
o'  ther  maountings.  Good-by." 

He  was  going. 

"Wait!"  cried  Frank.  "Will  you  shake  hands  before 
you  go?" 

He  held  out  a  hand,  and  Muriel  seemed  to  hesitate. 
After  a  few  moments,  the  masked  lad  shook  his  head, 
and,  without  another  word,  left  the  room. 

"Begorra!"  cried  Barney,  scratching  his  head,  "thot 
felly  is  worse  than  Oi  thought !  Oi  don't  know  so  much 
about  him  now  as  Oi  did  bafore  Oi  met  him  at  all,  at  all  f 


Saved !  245 

The  boys  were  given  much  food  for  conversation.  They 
made  themselves  as  comfortable  as  possible,  and  talked 
over  the  thrilling  events  of  the  night. 

"If  Kate  Kenyon  had  not  told  me  that  her  brother  was 
serving  time  as  a  convict,  I  should  think  this  Muriel 
must  be  her  brother,"  said  Frank. 

"Av  he's  not  her  brither,  it's  badly  shtuck  on  her  he 
must  be,  Oi  dunno,"  observed  Barney.  "An5  av  he  be 
shtuck  on  her,  pwhoy  don't  he  git  onter  th'  collar  av  thot 
Miller?" 

That  was  a  question  Frank  could  not  answer.  Finally, 
when  they  had  tired  of  talking,  the  boys  lay  down  and 
tried  to  sleep. 

Frank  was  beginning  to  doze  when  his  ears  seemed  to 
detect  a  slight  rustling  in  that  very  room,  and  his  eyes 
flew  open  in  a  twinkling.  He  started  up,  a  cry  of  wonder 
surging  to  his  lips,  and  being  smothered  there. 

Kate  Kenyon  stood  within  ten  feet  of  him! 

As  Frank  started  up,  the  girl  swiftly  placed  a  finger  on 
her  lips,  warning  him  to  be  silent. 

Frank  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  Barney  Mulloy  sat  r 
rubbing  his  eyes  and  beginning  to  speak. 

"Pwhat's  th'  matter  now,  me  b'y  ?    Are  yez Howly 

shmoke !" 

Barney  clasped  both  hands  over  his  mouth,  having 
caught  the  warning  gestures  from  Frank  and  the  girl. 
Still  the  exclamation  had  escaped  his  lips,  although  it 
was  not  uttered  loudly. 

Swiftly  Kate  Kenyon  flitted  across  the  room,  listening 
with  her  ear  to  the  door  to  hear  any  sound  beyond.  After 
some  moments,  she  seemed  satisfied  that  the  moonshiners 
had  not  been  aroused  by  anything  that  had  happened 
within  that  room,  and  she  came  back,  standing  close  to 
Frank,  and  whispering: 

"Ef  you-uns  will  trust  me,  I  judge  I  kin  git  yer  out  o' 
this  scrape." 

"Trust  you !"  exclaimed  Frank,  softly,  as  he  caught  her 
hand.  "We  have  you  to  thank  for  our  lives !  Kate — 
your  pardon! — Miss  Kenyon,  how  can  we  ever  repay 
you?" 

"Don't  stop  ter  talk  'bout  that  now,"  she  said,  with 


246  Saved ! 

chilling  roughness.  "Ef  you-uns  want  ter  live,  an'  yer 
want  ter  git  erway  frum  Wade  Miller,  git  reddy  ter  fol- 
ler  me." 

"We  are  ready." 

"Begorra!  we're  waitin'!" 

"But  how  are  we  to  leave  this  room?  How  did  you 
enter?" 

She  silently  pointed  to  a  dark  opening  in  the  corner,  and 
they  saw  that  a  small  trapdoor  was  standing  open. 

"We  kin  git  out  that  way,"  she  said. 

The  boys  wondered  why  they  had  not  discovered  the 
door  when  they  examined  the  place,  but  there  was  no 
time  for  investigation. 

Kate  Kenyon  flitted  lightly  toward  the  opening.  Paus 
ing  beside  it,  she  pointed  downward,  saying : 

"Go  ahead ;  I'll  foller  and  close  ther  door." 

The  boys  did  not  hesitate,  for  they  placed  perfect  con 
fidence  in  the  girl  now.  Barney  dropped  down  in  ad 
vance,  and  his  feet  found  some  rude  stone  steps.  In  a 
moment  he  had  disappeared,  and  then  Frank  followed. 

As  lightly  as  a  fairy,  Kate  Kenyon  dropped  through 
the  opening,  closing  the  door  behind  her. 

The  boys  found  themselves  in  absolute  darkness,  in 
some  sort  of  a  narrow,  underground  place,  and  there  they 
paused,  awaiting  their  guide. 

She  came  in  a  moment.  Her  hand  touched  Frank  as 
she  slipped  past,  and  he  caught  the  perfume  of  wild  flow 
ers.  To  him  she  was  like  a  beautiful  wild  flower  growing 
in  a  wilderness  of  weeds.  The  touch  of  their  hands  was 
electric. 

"Come." 

The  boys  heard  the  word,  and  they  moved  slowly  for 
ward  through  the  darkness,  now  and  then  feeling  dank 
walls  on  either  hand. 

For  a  considerable  distance  they  went  on  in  this  way, 
and  then  the  passage  seemed  to  widen  out,  and  they  felt 
that  they  had  entered  a  cave. 

"Keep  close  ter  me,"  directed  the  girl. 

"Here,  give  me  your  hands.  Now  you-uns  can't  git 
astray." 

At  last  a  strange  smell  came  to  their  nostrils,  seem 
ingly  on  the  wings  of  a  light  breath  of  air. 


Saved !  247 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Frank. 

"Ther  mill  whar  ther  moonshine  is  made." 

"Oh!" 

Now  the  boys  recognized  the  smell. 

Still  she  led  them  on  through  the  darkness.  Never  for 
a  moment  did  she  hesitate;  she  seemed  to  have  the  eyes 
of  an  owl. 

All  at  once  they  heard  the  sound  of  gently  running 
water. 

"Is  there  a  stream  near?"  asked  Frank. 

"Lost  Creek  runs  through  har,"  answered  the  girl. 

"Lost  Creek  ?    Why,  we  are  still  underground." 

"An'  Lost  Creek  runs  underground.  Have  ye  fergot 
that?" 

So  the  mysterious  stream  flowed  through  this  cavern, 
and  the  cave  was  near  one  of  the  illicit  distilleries. 

Frank  cared  to  know  no  more,  for  he  did  not  believe  ij; 
was  healthy  to  know  too  much  about  the  makers  of  moon 
shine. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  approached  the  mouth  of 
the  cave.  They  saw  the  opening  before  them,  and  then, 
of  a  sudden,  a  dark  figure  arose  there — the  figure  of  a 
man  with  a  gun  in  his  hands ! 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 
FRANK'S  SUSPICION. 

"It's  ail  right." 

Kate  uttered  the  words,  and  the  boys  began  to  recover 
from  their  alarm,  as  she  did  not  hesitate  in  the  least. 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Frank. 

"Dummy." 

"Who  is  Dummy?" 

"A  cousin  o'  mine.  He'll  do  anything  fer  me.  I  put 
him  thar  ter  watch  out  while  I  war  in  hyar." 

They  went  forward.  Of  a  sudden,  Kate  struck  a  match, 
holding  it  so  the  light  shone  on  her  face,  and  the  figure 
at  the  mouth  of  the  cave  was  seen  to  wave  its  hand  and 
vanish. 

"Ther  coast  is  clear,"  assured  the  girl.  "But  it's  gittin' 
right  nigh  mornin',  an'  we-uns  must  hustle  away  from 
hyar  afore  it  is  light.  We  won't  lose  any  time." 

The  boys  were  well  satisfied  to  get  away  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

They  passed  out  of  the  dark  cavern  into  the  cool,  sweet 
air  of  a  spring  morning,  for  the  gray  of  dawn  was  be? 
ginning  to  dispel  the  darkness,  and  the  birds  were  twit 
tering  from  the  thickets. 

The  phantom  of  a  moon  was  in  the  sky,  hanging  low 
down  and  half -in  verted  as  if  spilling  a  spectral  glamour 
over  the  ghostly  mists  which  lay  deep  in  Lost  Creek 
Valley. 

The  sweet  breath  of  flowers  and  of  the  woods  was  in 
the  morning  air,  and  from  some  cabin  afar  on  the  side 
of  a  distant  mountain  a  wakeful  watchdog  barked  till  the 
crags  reverberated  with  his  clamoring. 

"Thar's  somethin'  stirrin'  at  'Bize  Wiley's,  ur  his  dorg 
wouldn't  be  kickin'  up  all  that  racket,"  observed  Kate 
Kenyon.  "He  lives  by  ther  road  that  comes  over  from 
Bildow's  Crossroads.  Folks  comin'  inter  ther  maount- 
ings  from  down  below  travel  that  way." 

The  boys  looked  around  for  the  mute  who  had  been 


Frank's  Suspicion.  249 

guarding  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  but  they  saw  nothing 
of  him.  He  had  slipped  away  into  the  bushes  which  grew 
thick  all  around  the  opening. 

"Come  on,"  said  the  girl,  after  seeming  strangely  in 
terested  in  the  barking  of  the  dog.  "We'll  git  ter  ther  ofd 
mill  as  soon  as  we  kin.  Foller  me,  an'  be  ready  ter 
scrouch  ther  instant  anything  is  seen." 

Now  that  they  could  see  her,  she  led  them  forward  at 
a  swift  pace,  which  astonished  them  both.  She  did  not 
run,  but  she  seemed  to  skim  over  the  ground,  and  she 
took  advantage  of  every  bit  of  cover  till  they  entered 
some  deep,  lowland  pines. 

Through  this  strip  of  woods  she  swiftly  led  them,  and 
they  came  near  to  Lost  Creek,  where  it  flowed  down  in 
the  dismal  valley. 

There  they  found  the  ruins  of  an  old  mill,  the  moss- 
covered  water-wheel  forever  silent,  the  roof  sagging  and 
falling  in,  the  windows  broken  out  by  mischievous  boys, 
the  whole  presenting  a  most  melancholy  and  deserted  ap 
pearance. 

The  road  that  had  led  to  the  mill  from  the  main  high 
way  was  overgrown  with  weeds.  Later  it  would  be  filled 
with  thistles  and  burdocks.  Wild  sassafras  grew  along 
the  roadside. 

"That's  whar  you-uns  must  hide  ter-day,"  said  Kate, 
motioning  toward  the  mill. 

"Why  should  we  hide?"  exclaimed  Frank.  "We  are 
not  criminals,  nor  are  we  revenue  spies.  I  do  not  fancy 
the  idea  of  hiding  like  a  hunted  dog." 

"It's  better  ter  be  a  live  dorg  than  a  dead  lion.  Ef 
you-uns'll  take  my  advice,  you'll  come  inter  ther  mill  thar, 
an'  ye'll  keep  thar  all  day,  an'  keep  mighty  quiet.  I  know 
ye're  nervy,  but  thar  ain't  no  good  in  bein'  foolish.  It'll 
be  known  that  you-uns  have  escaped,  an'  then  Wade  Mil 
ler  will  scour  ther  country.  Ef  he  come  on  yer " 

"Give  us  our  arms,  and  we'll  be  ready  to  meet  Mr: 
Miller." 

''But  yer  wouldn't  meet  him  alone;  thar'd  be  others 
with  him,  an*  you-uns  wouldn't  have  no  sorter  show." 

Kate  finally  succeeded  in  convincing  the  boys  that  she 
spoke  the  truth,  and  they  agreed  to  remain  quietly  in  the 
old  mill. 


250  Frank's  Suspicion. 

She  led  them  into  the  mill,  which  was  dank  and  dismal. 
The  imperfect  light  failed  to  show  all  the  pitfalls  that 
lurked  for  their  feet,  but  she  warned  them,  and  they  es 
caped  injury. 

The  miller  had  lived  in  the  mill,  and  the  girl  took  them 
to  the  part  of  the  old  building  that  had  served  as  a  home. 

"Har,"  she  said,  opening  a  closet  door,  "I've  brung 
food  fer  you-uns,  so  yer  won't  starve,  an'  I  knowed  ye'a 
be  hongry." 

"You  are  more  than  thoughtful,  Miss  Kenyon." 

"Yer  seem  ter  have  fergot  what  we  agreed  ter  call 
each  other,  Frank." 

She  spoke  the  words  in  a  tone  of  reproach. 

"Kate!" 

Barney  turned  away,  winking  uselessly  at  nothing  at 
all,  and  kept  his  back  toward  them  for  some  moments. 

But  Frank  Merriwell  had  no  thought  of  making  love 
to  this  strange  girl  of  the  mountains.  She  had  promised 
to  be  his  friend;  she  had  proved  herself  his  friend,  and 
as  no  more  than  a  friend  did  he  propose  to  accept  her. 

That  he  had  awakened  something  stronger  than  a 
friendly  feeling  in  Kate  Kenyon's  breast  seemed  evident, 
and  the  girl  was  so  artless  that  she  could  not  conceal  her 
true  feelings  toward  him. 

They  stood  there,  talking  in  a  low  tone,  while  the  morn 
ing  light  stole  in  at  one  broken  window  and  grew  stronger 
and  stronger  within  that  room. 

Frank  was  studying  Kate's  speech  and  voice.  As  he 
did  so  a  new  thought  came  to  him — a  thought  that  was 
at  first  a  mere  suspicion,  which  he  scarcely  noted  at  all. 
This  suspicion  grew,  and  he  found  himself  asking : 

"Kate,  are  you  sure  your  brother  is  still  wearing  a 
convict's  suit?" 

She  started,  and  looked  at  him  closely. 

"Sure  o'  it  ?"  she  repeated.    "No,  fer  he  may  be  dead." 

"You  do  not  know  that  he  is  dead — you  have  not  heard 
Of  his  death?" 

"No." 

"Is  he  bold  and  daring?" 

Her  eyes  flashed,  and  a  look  of  pride  swept  across  her 
face. 


Frank's  Suspicion.  251 

"Folks  allus  'lowed  Rufe  Kenyon  wa'n't  afeard  o'  ary 
two-legged  critter  livin',  an'  they  war  right." 

"Perhaps  he  has  escaped." 

She  clutched  his  arm,  beginning  to  pant,  as  she  asked: 

"What  makes  you  say  that?  I  knowed  he'd  try  it  some 
day,  but — but,  have  you  heard  anything?  Do  you  know 
that  he  has  tried  it  ?" 

The  suspicion  leaped  to  a  conviction  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye.  If  Rufe  Kenyon  was  not  at  liberty,  then  he 
must  be  right  in  what  he  thought. 

"I  do  not  know  that  your  brother  has  tried  to  escape, 
I  do  not  know  anything  about  him.  I  did  think  that  he 
might  be  Muriel,  the  moonshiner." 

Kate  laughed. 

"You-uns  war  plumb  mistooken  thar,"  she  said,  posi 
tively.  "Rufe  is  not  Muriel." 

"Then,"  cried  Frank,  "you  are  Muriel  yourself!" 

Kate  Kenyon  seemed  astounded. 

"Have  you-uns  gone  plumb  dafty?"  asked  the  girl,  in 
a  dazed  way.  "Me  Muriel !  Wai,  that  beats  all !" 

"But  you  are — I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Frank,  swiftly. 

The  girl  laughed. 

"Well,  that  beats  me !  Of  course  I'm  not  Muriel ;  but 
he's  ther  best  friend  I've  got  in  these  maountings." 

Frank  was  far  from  satisfied,  but  he  was  too  courteous 
to  insist  after  this  denial.  Kate  laughed  the  idea  to  scorn, 
saying  over  and  over  that  the  boy  must  be  "dafty,"  but 
still  his  mind  was  unchanged. 

To  be  sure,  there  were  some  things  not  easily  explained, 
one  being  how  Muriel  concealed  her  luxurious  red  hair, 
for  Muriel's  hair  appeared  to  be  coal-black. 

Another  thing  was  that  Wade  Miller  must  know  Muriel 
and  Kate  were  one  and  the  same,  and  yet  he  preserved  her 
secret  and  allowed  her  to  snatch  his  victims  from  his 
maws. 

Barney  Mulloy  had  been  more  than  astounded  by 
Frank's  words ;  the  Irish  youth  was  struck  dumb.  When 
he  could  collect  himself,  he  softly  muttered: 

"Well,  av  all  th'  oideas  thot  takes  th'  cake !" 

Having  seen  them  safely  within  the  mill  and  shown 
them  the  food  brought  there,  Kate  said : 


252  Frank's  Suspicion. 

"Har  is  two  revolvers  fer  you-uns.  Don't  use  'em 
unless  yer  have  ter,  but  shoot  ter  kill  ef  you're  forced." 

"Begorra!  Oi'm  ready  fer  th'  spalpanes!"  cried  Bar 
ney,  as  he  grasped  one  of  the  weapons.  "Let  thim  come 
on!" 

"I  feel  better  myself,"  declared  Frank.  "Next  time 
Wade  Miller  and  his  gang  will  not  catch  us  napping." 

"Roight,  me  b'y ;  we'll  be  sound  awake,  Frankie." 

Kate  bade  them  good-by,  assuring  them  that  she  would 
return  with  the  coming  of  another  night,  and  making  them 
promise  to  await  her,  and  then  she  flitted  away,  slipped 
out  of  the  mill,  soon  vanishing  amid  the  pines. 

"It's  dead  lucky  we  are  ter  be  living,  Frankie,"  ob 
served  Barney. 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "This 
night  has  been  a  black  and  tempestuous  one,  but  we  have 
lived  through  it,  and  I  do  not  believe  we'll  find  ourselves 
in  such  peril  again  while  we  are  in  the  Tennessee  moun 
tains." 

They  were  hungry,  and  they  ate  heartily  of  the  plain 
food  that  had  been  provided  for  them. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  Barney  said: 

"Frankie,  it's  off  yer  trolley  ye  git  sometoimes." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Barney?  Is  it  a  new 
sell?" 

"Nivver  a  bit.  Oi  wur  thinkin'  av  pwhat  yez  said  about 
Kate  Kenyon  being  Mooriel,  th'  moonshoiner." 

"I  was  not  off  my  trolley  so  very  much  then." 

"G'wan,  me  b'y!    Ye  wur  crazy  as  a  bidbug." 

"You  think  so,  but  I  have  made  a  study  of  Muriel  and 
of  Kate  Kenyon.  I  am  still  inclined  to  believe  the  moon 
shiner  is  the  girl  in  disguise." 

"An'  Oi  say  ye're  crazy.  No  girrul  could  iver  do 
pwhat  thot  felly  does,  an'  no  band  av  min  loike  th'  moon- 
shoiners  would  iver  allow  a  girrul  loike  Kate  Kenyon  ter 
boss  thim." 

"They  do  not  know  Muriel  is  a  girl.  That  is,  I  am 
sure  the  most  of  them  do  not  know  it — do  not  dream  it." 

"Thot  shows  their  common  sinse,  fer  Oi  don't  belave 
ft  mesilf." 

"I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  shall  not  give  it  up  yet." 


Frank's  Suspicion.  253 

"Whoy,  think  pwhat  a  divvil  thot  Muriel  is!  An'  thf 
color  av  his  hair  is  black,  whoile  the  girrul's  is  red." 

"I  have  thought  of  those  things,  and  I  have  wondered 
how  she  concealed  that  mass  of  red  hair;  still  I  am  sat 
isfied  she  does  it." 

"Well,  it's  no  use  to  talk  to  you  at  all,  at  all." 

However,  they  did  discuss  it  for  some  time. 

Finally  they  fell  to  exploring  the  old  mill,  and  they 
wandered  from  one  part  to  another  till  they  finally  came  t 
to  the  place  where  they  had  entered  over  a  sagging  plank. 
They  were  standing  there,  just  within  the  deeper  shadow 
©f  the  mill,  when  a  man  came  panting  and  reeling  from 
the  woods,  his  hat  off,  his  shirt  torn  open  at  the  throat, 
great  drops  of  perspiration  standing  on  his  face,  a  wild, 
hunted  look  in  his  eyes,  and  dashed  to  the  end  of  the 
plank  that  led  over  the  water  into  the  old  mill. 

Frank  clutched  Barney,  and  the  boys  fell  back  a  step, 
watching  the  man,  who  was  looking  back  over  his  shoul 
der  and  listening,  the  perfect  picture  of  a  hunted  thing. 

"They're  close  arter  me — ther  dogs !"  came  in  a  hoarse 
pant  from  the  man's  lips.  "But  I  turned  on  'em — I 
doubled — an'  I  hope  I  fooled  'em.  It's  my  last  chance, 
fer  I'm  dead  played,  and  I'm  so  nigh  starved  that  it's  all 
I  kin  do  ter  drag  one  foot  arter  t'other." 

He  listened  again,  and  then,  as  if  overcome  by  a  sud 
den  fear  of  being  seen  there,  he  suddenly  rushed  across 
the  plank  and  plunged  into  the  mill. 

He  ran  fairly  upon  Frank  Merriwell. 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  man  and  boy  were  clasped 
in  a  close  embrace,  struggling  desperately. 

"Caught !"  cried  the  fugitive,  desperately.    "Trapped !" 

He  tried  to  hurl  Frank  to  the  floor,  and  he  would  have 
succeeded  had  he  been  in  his  normal  condition,  for  he  was 
a  man  of  great  natural  strength ;  but  he  was  exhausted  by 
flight  and  hunger,  and,  in  his  weakened  condition,  the  man 
found  his  supple  antagonist  too  much  for  him. 

A  gasp  came  from  the  stranger's  lips  as  he  felt  the  boy 
give  him  a  wrestler's  trip  and  fling  him  heavily  to  the 
floor. 

The  man  was  stunned  for  a  moment.  When  he  opened 
his  eyes,  Frank  and  Barney  were  bending  over  him. 

"Wai,  I  done  my  best,"  he  said,  huskily ;  "but  you-uns 


254  Frank's  Suspicion. 

trapped  me  at  last.  I  dunno  how  yer  knew  I  war  comin' 
bar,  but  ye  war  on  hand  ter  meet  me." 

"You  have  made  a  mistake,"  said  Frank,  in  a  reassuring 
tone.  "We  are  not  your  enemies  at  all." 

"What's  that?" 

"We  are  not  your  enemies ;  you  are  not  trapped." 

The  man  seemed  unable  to  believe  what  he  heard. 

"Why,  who  be  you-uns?"  he  asked,  in  a  bewildered 
way. 

"Fugitives,  like  yourself,"  assured  Frank,  with  a  smile. 

He  looked  them  over,  and  shook  his  head. 

"Not  like  me,"  he  said.  "Look  at  me!  I'm  wore  ter 
ther  bone — I'm  a  wreck!  Oh,  it's  a  cursed  life  I've  led 
sence  they  dragged  me  away  from  har!  Night  an'  day 
hev  I  watched  for  a  chance  ter  break  away,  and'  I  war 
quick  ter  grasp  it  when  it  came.  They  shot  at  me,  an' 
one  o'  their  bullets  cut  my  shoulder  har.  It  war  a  close 
call,  but  I  got  away.  Then  they  follered,  an'  they  put 
houn's  arter  me.  Twenty  times  hev  they  been  right  on 
me,  an'  twenty  times  hev  I  got  erway.  But  it  kep'  wearin' 
me  weaker  an'  thinner.  My  last  hope  war  ter  find  friends 
ter  hide  me  an'  fight  fer  me,  an'  I  came  har — back  home ! 
I  tried  ter  git  inter  'Bije  Wileys'  this  mornin',  but  his 
dorg  didn't  know  me,  I  war  so  changed,  an'  ther  hunters 
war  close  arter  me,  so  I  hed  ter  run  fer  it." 

"Begorra!"  exclaimed  Barney;  "we  hearrud  th'  dog 
barruckin'." 

"So  we  did,"  agreed  Frank,  remembering  how  the  crea 
ture  had  been  clamoring  on  the  mountainside  at  day 
break. 

"I  kem  har,"  continued  the  man,  weakly.  "I  turned  on 
ther  devils,  but  when  I  run  in  har  an'  you-uns  tackled  me, 
f  judged  I  had  struck  a  trap." 

"It  was  no  trap,  Rufe  Kenyon,"  said  Frank,  quietly. 

The  hunted  man  started  up  and  slunk  away. 

"You  know  me !"  he  gasped. 

"We  do." 

"An'  still  ye  say  you-uns  are  not  my  enemies." 

"We  are  not." 

"Then  how  do  you  know  me  ?    I  never  saw  yer  afore." 

"No ;  but  we  have  heard  of  you." 

"How?" 


Frank's  Suspicion.  255 

"From  your  sister  Kate." 

"She  tol'  yer?" 

"She  did." 

"Then  she  must  trust  you-uns." 

"She  saved  us  from  certain  death  last  night,  and  she 
brought  us  here  to  hide  till  she  can  help  us  get  out  of  this 
part  of  the  country." 

Rufe  Kenyon  looked  puzzled. 

"I  judge  you-uns  is  givin'  it  ter  me  straight,"  he  said, 
slowly;  "but  I  don't  jes'  understan'.  What  did  she  save 
yer  from?" 

"Moonshiners." 

"The  man  seemed  filled  with  sudden  suspicion. 

"What  had  moonshiners  agin'  you-uns?  Be  you  re- 
vernues  ?" 

"No.    Do  we  look  like  revenue  spies?" 

"Yer  look  too  young." 

"Well,  we  are  not  spies;  but  we  were  unfortunate 
enough  to  incur  the  enmity  of  Wade  Miller,  and  he  has 
sworn  to  end  our  lives." 

"Wade  Miller!"  cried  Rufe,  showing  his  teeth  in  an 
ugly  manner.  "An'  I  s'pose  he's  hangin'  'roun'  Kate, 
same  as  he  uster?" 

"He  is  giving  her  more  or  less  trouble." 

"Wai,  he  won't  give  her  much  trouble  arter  I  git  at 
him.  He  is  a  snake !  Look  har !  I'm  goin'  ter  tell  you- 
uns  somethin'.  Miller  allus  pretended  ter  be  my  friend, 
but  it  war  that  critter  as  put  ther  revernues  onter  me  an' 
got  me  arrested !  He  done  it  because  I  tol'  him  Kate  war 
too  good  fer  him.  I  know  it,  an'  one  thing  why  I  wanted 
ter  git  free  war  ter  come  har  an'  fix  ther  critter  so  he 
won't  ever  bother  Kate  no  more.  I  hev  swore  ter  fix 
him,  an'  I'll  do  it  ef  I  live  ter  meet  him  face  ter  face!" 

He  had  grown  wildly  excited,  and  he  sat  up,  with  his 
back  against  a  post,  his  eyes  gleaming  redly,  and  a  white 
foam  flecking  his  lips.  At  that  moment  he  reminded  the 
boys  of  a  mad  dog. 

Woe  to  Wade  Miller  when  they  met! 

When  Kenyon  was  calmer,  Frank  told  the  story  of  the 
adventures  which  had  befallen  the  boys  since  entering 
Lost  Creek  Valley.  The  fugitive  listened  quietly,  watch- 


256  Frank's  Suspicion. 

ing  them  closely  with  his  sunken  eyes,  and,  having  heard 
all,  said : 

"I  judge  you-uns  tells  ther  truth.  Ef  I  kin  keep  hid  till 
Kate  gits  har — till  I  see  her — I'll  fix  things  so  you  won't 
be  bothered  much.  Wade  Miller's  day  in  Lost  Creek  Val 
ley  is  over." 

The  boys  took  him  up  to  the  living  room  of  the  old  mill, 
where  they  furnished  him  with  the  coarse  food  that  re 
mained  from  their  breakfast.  He  ate  like  a  famished 
thing,  washing  the  dry  bread  down  with  great  swallows 
of  water.  When  he  had  finished  and  his  hunger  was  satis 
fied,  he  was  quite  like  another  man. 

"Thar !"  he  cried ;  "now  I  am  reddy  fer  anything !  But 
I  do  need  sleep." 

"Take  it,"  advised  Frank.    "We  will  watch." 

"And  you'll  tell  me  ef  thar's  danger  ?" 

"You  may  depend  on  it." 

"You-uns  will  watch  close?" 

"Never  fear  about  that." 

So  the  hunted  wretch  was  induced  to  lie  down  and 
sleep.  He  slept  soundly  for  some  hours,  and,  when  he 
opened  his  eyes,  his  sister  had  her  arms  about  his  neck. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE     GREATEST     PERIL. 

"Rufe!" 

"Kate!" 

He  sat  up  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  a  look  of  joy  on 
his  face. 

It  is  quite  unnecessary  to  describe  the  joys  of  that  meet 
ing.  The  boys  had  left  brother  and  sister  alone  together, 
and  the  two  remained  thus  for  nearly  an  hour,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  Rufe  knew  all  that  had  happened  since  he 
was  taken  from  Lost  Creek  Valley,  and  Kate  had  also 
been  made  aware  of  the  perfidy  of  Wade  Miller. 

"I  judge  it  is  true  that  bread  throwed  on  ther  waters 
allus  comes  back,"  said  Kate,  when  the  four  were  to 
gether.  "Now  looker  how  I  helped  you-uns,  an'  then  see 
how  it  turned  out  ter  be  a  right  good  thing  fer  Rufe.  He 
found  ye  har,  an'  you-uns  hev  fed  him  an'  watched  while 
he  slept." 

"An'  I  hev  tol'  Kate  all  about  Wade  Miller,"  said  the 
fugitive. 

"That  settles  him,"  declared  the  girl,  with  a  snap. 

Rufe  explained. 

"Kate  says  ther  officers  think  I  hev  gone  on  over  inter 
ther  next  cove,  an'  they're  arter  me,  all  'ceptin'  two  what 
have  been  left  behind.  They'll  be  back,  though,  by  night." 

"But  you  are  all  right  now,  for  your  friends  will  be  on 
hand  by  that  time." 

"Yes ;  Kate  will  take  word  ter  Muriel,  an'  he'll  hev  ther 
boys  ready  ter  fight  fer  me.  Ther  officers  will  find  it 
kinder  hot  in  these  parts." 

"I'd  better  be  goin'  now,"  said  the  girl.  "Ther  boys 
oughter  know  all  about  it  soon  as  possible." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Rufe.  "This  ain't  ther  best 
place  fer  me  ter  hide." 

"No,"  declared  Kate,  suddenly;  "an'  yer  mustn't  hide 
har  longer,  fer  ther  officers  may  come  afore  night.  I'll 
take  yer  ter  ther  cave.  It  won't  do  fer  ther  boys  ter  go 


258  The  Greatest  Peril. 

thar,  but  you  kin  all  right.  Ther  boys  is  best  off  bar,  fer 
ther  officers  wouldn't  hurt  'em." 

This  seemed  all  right,  and  it  was  decided  on. 

Just  as  they  were  on  the  point  of  descending,  Barney 
gave  a  cry,  caught  Frank  by  the  arm,  and  drew  him 
toward  a  window. 

"Look  there,  me  b'y !"  exclaimed  the  Irish  lad.  "Phwat 
do  yez  think  av  it  now  ?" 

A  horseman  was  coming  down  the  old  road  that  led  to 
the  mill.  He  bestrode  a  coal-black  horse,  and  a  mask  cov 
ered  his  face,  while  his  long,  black  hair  flowed  down  on 
the  collar  of  the  coat  he  wore.  He  sat  the  horse  jauntily, 
riding  with  a  reckless  air  that  seemed  to  tell  of  a  daring 
spirit. 

"Great  Scott!"  exclaimed  Frank  Merriwell,  amazed. 
"It  is  Muriel!" 

"That's  pwhat !"  chuckled  Barney.  "An'  it's  your  trate, 
me  lad." 

"I  will  treat,"  said  Frank,  crestfallen.  "I  am  not  nearly 
so  smart  as  I  thought  I  was." 

"Muriel?"  cried  Kate,  dashing  to  the  window.  "Where 
is  he?" 

She  did  not  hesitate  to  appear  in  the  window  and  signal 
to  the  dashing  young  moonshiner,  who  returned  her  sa 
lute,  and  motioned  for  her  to  come  out. 

"He  wants  ter  see  me  in  er  hurry,"  said  the  girl.  "I 
sent  word  ter  him  by  Dummy  that  ther  boys  war  liar,  an' 
that's  how  he  happened  ter  turn  up.  Come,  Rufe,  go  out 
with  me.  Muriel  will  be  glad  to  see  yer." 

"And  I  shall  be  glad  ter  see  him,"  declared  the  escaped 
convict. 

Kate  bade  the  boys  remain  there,  telling  them  she 
would  call  them  if  they  were  wanted,  and  then,  with  Rufe 
following,  she  hurried  down  the  stairs,  and  hastened  to 
meet  the  boy  moonshiner,  wfao  had  halted  on  the  bank  at 
some  distance  from  the  old  mill. 

Watching  from  the  window,  Frank  and  Barney  saw  her 
hasten  up  to  Muriel,  saw  her  speak  swiftly,  although  they 
could  not  hear  her  words,  saw  Muriel  nod  and  seem  to 
reply  quite  as  swiftly,  and  then  saw  the  young  leader  of 
the  Black  Caps  shake  her  hand  in  a  manner  that  denoted 
pleasure  and  affection. 


The  Greatest  Peril.  259 

"Ye're  a  daisy,  Frankie,  me  b'y,"  snickered  Barney 
Mulloy;  "but  fer  wance  ye  wur  badly  mishtaken." 

"I  was  all  of  that,"  confessed  Frank,  as  if  slightly 
ashamed.  "I  thought  myself  far  shrewder  than  I  am." 

As  they  watched,  they  saw  Rufe  Kenyon  suddenly  leap 
up  behind  Muriel,  and  then  the  doubly  burdened  horse 
swung  around  and  went  away  at  a  hot  pace,  while  Kate 
came  flitting  back  into  the  mill. 

"The  officers  are  returnin',"  she  explained.  "Muriel 
will  take  Rufe  whar  thar  ain't  no  chance  o'  their  findin' 
him.  You-uns  will  have  ter  stay  har.  I  have  brung  ye 
more  fodder,  an'  I  judge  you'll  git  along  all  right." 

So  she  left  them  hurriedly,  being  greatly  excited  over 
the  return  of  her  brother  and  his  danger. 

The  day  passed,  and  the  officers  failed  to  appear  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  mill,  although  the  boys  were  expecting  to 
see  them. 

Nor  did  Wade  Miller  trouble  them. 

When  night  came  Frank  and  Barney  grew  impatient, 
for  they  were  far  from  pleased  with  their  lot,  but  they 
could  do  nothing  but  wait. 

Two  hours  after  nightfall  a  form  suddenly  appeared  in 
the  old  mill,  rising  before  the  boys  like  a  phantom,  al 
though  they  could  not  understand  how  the  fellow  came 
there. 

In  a  flash  Frank  snatched  out  a  revolver  and  pointed 
it  at  the  intruder,  crying,  sternly : 

"Stand  still  and  give  an  account  of  yourself!  Who  are 
you,  and  what  do  you  want  ?" 

The  figure  moved  into  the  range  of  the  window,  so 
that  the  boys  could  see  him  making  strange  gestures, 
pointing  to  his  ears,  and  pressing  his  fingers  to  his  lips. 

"Steady  you !"  commanded  Frank.  "If  you  don't  keep 
still,  I  shall  shoot.  Answer  my  question  at  once." 

Still  the  intruder  continued  to  make  those  strange  ges 
tures,  pointing  to  his  ears,  and  touching  his  lips.  That  he 
saw  Frank's  revolver  glittering  and  feared  the  boy  would 
shoot  was  evident,  but  he  still  remained  silent. 

"Whoy  don't  th'  spalpane  spake?"  cried  Barney.  "Is 
it  no  tongue  he  has,  Oi  dunno  ?" 

That  gave  Frank  an  idea. 


260  The  Greatest  Peril. 

"Perhaps  he  cannot  speak,  in  which  case  he  is  the  one 
Kate  calls  Dummy.  I  believe  he  is  the  fellow." 

It  happened  that  the  sign  language  of  mutes  was  one 
of  Frank's  accomplishments,  he  having  taken  it  up  during 
his  leisure  moments.  He  passed  the  revolver  to  Barney, 
saying : 

"Keep  the  fellow  covered,  while  I  see  if  I  can  talk  with 
him." 

Frank  moved  up  to  the  window,  held  his  hands  close  to 
the  intruder's  face,  and  spelled : 

"You  from  Kate?" 

The  man  nodded  joyfully.  He  put  up  his  hands  and 
spelled  back: 

"Kate  send  me.    Come.    Horses  ready." 

Frank  interpreted  for  Barney's  benefit,  and  the  Irish 
lad  cried : 

"Thin  let's  be  movin'!  It's  mesilf  that's  ready  ter  git 
out  av  thase  parruts  in  a  hurry,  Oi  think." 

For  a  moment  Frank  hesitated  about  trusting  the  mute, 
and  then  he  decided  that  it  was  the  best  thing  to  do,  and 
he  signaled  that  they  were  ready. 

Dummy  led  the  way  from  the  mill,  crossing  by  the 
plank,  and  plunging  into  the  pine  woods. 

"He  sames  to  be  takin'  us  back  th'  woay  we  came, 
Frankie,"  said  the  Irish  lad,  in  a  low  tone. 

"That's  all  right,"  assured  Frank.  "He  said  the  horses 
were  waiting  for  us.  Probably  Kate  is  with  them." 

The  mute  flitted  along  with  surprising  silence  and 
speed,  and  they  found  it  no  easy  task  to  follow  and  keep 
close  enough  to  see  him.  Now  and  then  he  looked  back 
to  make  sure  they  were  close  behind. 

At  last  they  came  to  the  termination  of  the  pines,  and 
there,  in  the  deep  shadows,  they  found  three  horses  wait 
ing. 

Kate  Kenyon  was  not  there. 

Frank  felt  disappointed,  for  he  wished  to  see  the  girl 
before  leaving  the  mountains  forever.  He  did  not  like 
to  go  away  without  touching  her  hand  again,  and  ex 
pressing  his  sense  of  gratitude  for  the  last  time. 

It  was  his  hope  that  she  might  join  them  before  they 
left  the  mountains. 

The  horses  were  saddled  and  bridled,  and  the  boys  were 


The  Greatest  Peril.  261 

about  to  mount  when  a  strange,  low  cry  broke  from  Dum 
my's  lips. 

There  was  a  sudden  stir,  and  an  uprising  of  dark  forms 
on  all  sides.  Frank  tried  to  snatch  out  his  revolver,  but  it 
was  too  late.  He  was  seized,  disarmed,  and  crushed  to 
the  earth. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!"  laughed  a  hateful  voice.  "Did  you-uns 
think  ye  war  goin'  ter  escape?  Wai,  yer  didn't  know 
Wade  Miller  very  well.  I  knowed  Kate'd  try  ter  git  yer 
off,  an'  all  I  hed  ter  do  war  watch  her.  I  didn't  waste 
my  time  runnin'  round  elsewhar." 

They  were  once  more  in  Miller's  clutches! 

Frank  ground  his  teeth  with  impotent  rage.  He  blamed 
himself  for  falling  into  the  trap,  and  still  he  could  not  see 
how  he  was  to  blame.  Surely  he  had  been  cautious,  but 
fate  was  against  him.  He  had  escaped  Miller  twice ;  but 
this  was  the  third  time,  and  he  feared  that  it  would  prove 
disastrous. 

Barney  had  not  a  word  to  say. 

The  hands  of  the  captured  boys  were  tied  behind  their 
backs,  and  then  they  were  forced  to  march  swiftly  along 
in  the  midst  of  the  Black  Caps  that  surrounded  them. 

They  were  not  taken  to  the  cave,  but  straight  to  one 
of  the  hidden  stills,  a  little  hut  that  was  built  against  what 
seemed  to  be  a  wall  of  solid  rock,  a  great  bluff  rising 
against  the  face  of  the  mountain.  Thick  trees  concealed 
the  little  hut  down  in  the  hollow. 

Into  this  hut  the  boys  were  marched. 

Some  crude  candles  were  lighted,  and  they  saw  around 
them  the  outfit  for  making  moonshine  whiskey. 

"Thar!"  cried  Miller,  triumphantly;  "you-uns  will 
never  go  out  o'  this  place.  Ther  revernues  spotted  this 
still  ter-day,  but  it  won't  be  har  ter-morrer." 

He  made  a  signal,  and  the  boys  were  thrown  to  the 
floor,  where  they  were  held  helpless,  while  their  feet  were 
bound. 

When  this  job  was  finished  Miller  added : 

"No,  ther  revernues  won't  find  this  still  ter-morrer,  fer 
it  will  go  up  in  smoke.  Moonshine  is  good  stuff  ter  burn, 
an'  we'll  see  how  you-uns  like  it." 

At  a  word  a  keg  of  whiskey  was  brought  to  the  spot  by 
two  men. 


262  The  Greatest  Peril. 

"Let  'em  try  ther  stuff,"  directed  Miller. 

"Begorra!  he's  goin'  ter  fill  us  up  bafore  he  finishes 
us!"  muttered  Barney  Mulloy. 

But  that  was  not  the  intention  of  the  revengeful  man. 

A  plug  was  knocked  from  a  hole  in  the  end  of  the  keg, 
and  then  the  whiskey  was  poured  over  the  clothing  of  the 
boys,  wetting  them  to  the  skin. 

"Soak  'em !"  directed  Miller. 

The  men  did  not  stop  pouring  till  the  clothing  of  the 
boys  was  thoroughly  saturated. 

"Thar !"  said  Miller,  with  a  fiendish  chuckle,  "I  reckon 
you-uns  is  ready  fer  touchin'  off,  an'  ye'll  burn  like  pine 
knots.  Ther  way  ye'll  holler  will  make  ye  heard  clean  ter 
ther  top  o'  Black  Maounting,  an'  ther  fire  will  be  seen; 
but  when  anybody  gits  har,  you-uns  an'  this  still  will  be 
ashes." 

He  knelt  beside  Frank,  lighted  a  match,  and  applied  it 
to  the  boy's  whiskey-soaked  clothing! 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF   MURIEL. 

Not  quite !  The  flame  almost  touched  Frank's  clothing 
when  the  boy  rolled  over  swiftly,  thus  getting  out  of  the 
way  for  the  moment. 

At  the  same  instant  the  blast  of  a  bugle  was  heard  at 
the  very  front  of  the  hut,  and  the  door  fell  with  a  crash, 
while  men  poured  in  by  the  opening. 

"Ther  revernues!"  snouted  Wade  Miller. 

"No,  not  ther  revernues !"  rang  out  a  clear  voice ;  "but 
Muriel !" 

The  boy  chief  of  the  Black  Caps  was  there. 

"An'  Muriel  is  not  erlone!"  thundered  another  voice. 
"Rufe  Kenyon  is  har !" 

Out  in  front  of  Muriel  leaped  the  escaped  criminal,  con 
fronting  the  man  who  had  betrayed  him. 

Miller  staggered,  his  face  turning  pale  as  if  struck  a 
heavy  blow,  and  a  bitter  exclamation  of  fury  came 
through  his  clinched  teeth. 

"Rufe !"  he  grated.    "Then  it's  fight  f er  life !" 

"Yes,  it's  fight!"  roared  Kate  Kenyon's  brother,  as  a 
long-bladed  knife  glittered  in  his  hand,  and  he  thrust 
back  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt  till  his  arm  was  bared  above 
the  elbow.  "I  swore  ter  finish  yer,  Miller;  but  I'll  give 
ye  a  squar'  show !  Draw  yer  knife,  an'  may  ther  best  man 
win !" 

With  the  snarl  that  might  have  come  from  the  throat 
of  a  savage  beast,  Miller  snatched  out  a  revolver  instead 
of  drawing  a  knife. 

"I'll  not  fight  ye!"  he  screamed;  "but  I'll  shoot  ye 
plumb  through  ther  heart!" 

He  fired,  and  Rufe  Kenyon  ducked  at  the  same  time. 

There  was  a  scream  of  pain,  and  Muriel  flung  up  both 
hands,  dropping  into  the  arms  of  the  man  behind. 

Rufe  Kenyon  had  dodged  the  bullet,  but  the  boy  chief 
of  the  Black  Caps  had  suffered  in  his  stead. 

Miller  seemed  dazed  by  the  result  of  his  shot.    The  r6» 


264  The  Mystery  of  Muriel. 

volver  fell  from  his  hand,  and  he  staggered  forward, 
groaning : 

"Kate !— I've  killed  her !" 

Rufe  Kenyon  forgot  his  foe,  dropping  on  one  knee  be 
side  the  prostrate  figure  of  Muriel,  and  swiftly  removing 
the  mask. 

The  face  of  Kate  Kenyon  was  revealed! 

"Sister!"  panted  her  brother,  "be  ye  dead?  Has  that 
rascal  killed  ye  ?" 

Her  eyes  opened,  and  she  faintly  said: 

"Not  dead  yit,  Rufe." 

Then  the  brother  shouted : 

"Ketch  Wade  Miller!     Don't  let  ther  critter  escape!" 

It  seemed  that  every  man  in  the  hut  leaped  to  obey. 

Miller  struggled  like  a  tiger,  but  he  was  overpowered 
and  dragged  out  of  the  hut,  while  Rufe  still  knelt  and 
examined  his  sister's  wound,  which  was  in  her  shoulder. 

Frank  and  Barney  were  freed,  and  they  hastened  to 
render  such  assistance  as  they  could  in  dressing  the  wound 
and  stanching  the  flow  of  blood. 

"You-uns  don't  think  that'll  be  fatal,  do  yer?"  asked 
Rufe,  with  breathless  anxiety. 

"There  is  no  reason  why  it  should,"  assured  Frank. 
"She  must  be  taken  home  as  soon  as  possible,  and  a  doctor 
called.  I  think  she  will  come  through  all  right,  for  all 
of  Miller's  bullet." 

The  men  were  trooping  back  into  the  hut. 

"Miller!"  roared  Rufe,  leaping  to  his  feet.  "Whar's 
ther  critter?" 

"He  is  out  har  under  a  tree,"  answered  one  of  the  men, 
quietly. 

"Who's  watchin'  him  ter  see  that  he  don't  git  erway?" 
asked  Rufe. 

"Nobody's  watchin'." 

"Nobody  ?    Why,  ther  p'izen  dog  will  run  fer  it !" 

"I  don't  think  he'll  run  fur.    We've  tied  him." 

"How?" 

"Wai,  ter  make  sure  he  wouldn't  run,  we  hitched  a  rope 
around  his  neck  an'  tied  it  up  ter  ther  limb  o'  ther  tree. 
Unless  ther  rope  stretches,  he  won't  be  able  ter  git  his 
feet  down  onter  ther  ground  by  erbout  eighteen  inches." 

"Then  you-uns  hanged  him  ?" 


The  Mystery  of  Muriel.  265 

"Wal,  we  did  some." 

"Too  bad!"  muttered  Rufe,  with  a  sad  shake  of  his 
head.  "I  wanted  ter  squar  'counts  with  ther  skunk." 

Kate  Kenyon  was  taken  home,  and  the  bullet  was  ex 
tracted  from  her  shoulder.  The  wound,  although  painful, 
did  not  prove  at  all  serious,  and  she  began  to  recover  in  a 
short  time. 

Frank  and  Barney  lingered  until  it  seemed  certain  that 
she  would  recover,  and  then  they  prepared  to  take  their 
departure. 

After  all,  Frank's  suspicion  had  proved  true,  and  it  had 
been  revealed  that  Muriel  was  Kate  in  disguise. 

Frank  chaffed  Barney  a  great  deal  about  it,  and  the 
Irish  lad  took  the  chaffing  in  a  good-natured  manner. 

Rufe  Kenyon  was  hidden  by  his  friends,  so  that  his  pur 
suers  were  forced  to  give  over  the  search  for  him  and  de 
part. 

One  still  was  raided,  but  not  one  of  the  moonshiners 
was  captured,  as  they  had  received  ample  warning  of 
their  danger. 

On  the  evening  before  Frank  and  Barney  were  to  de 
part  in  the  morning,  the  boys  carried  Kate  out  to  the  door 
in  an  easy-chair,  and  they  sat  down  near  her. 

Mrs.  Kenyon  sat  on  the  steps  and  smoked  her  black 
pipe,  looking  as  stolid  and  indifferent  as  ever. 

"Kate,"  said  Frank,  "when  did  you  have  your  hair  cut 
short?  Where  is  that  profusion  of  beautiful  hair  you 
wore  when  we  first  saw  you  ?" 

"That  ?"  she  smiled.  "Why,  my  har  war  cut  more'n  a 
year  ago.  I  had  it  made  inter  a  'switch/  and  I  wore  it  so 
nobody'd  know  I  had  it  cut." 

"You  did  that  in  order  that  you  might  wear  the  black 
wig  when  you  personated  Muriel?" 

"Yes." 

"You  could  do  that  easily  over  your  short  hair." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you  played  the  part  well,  and  you  made  a  dash 
ing  boy.  But  how  about  the  Muriel  who  appeared  while 
you  were  in  the  mill  with  us?" 

She  laughed  a  bit. 

"You-uns  war  so  sharp  that  I  judged  I'd  make  yer 


266  The  Mystery  of  Muriel. 

think  ye  didn't  know  so  much  ez  you  thought,  an'  I  fixed  it 
up  ter  have  another  person  show  up  in  my  place." 

"I  see.     But  who  was  this  other  person?" 

"Dummy.  He  is  no  bigger  than  I,  an'  he  is  a  good 
mimic.  He  rode  jes'  like  me." 

"Begorra!  he  did  thot!"  nodded  Barney.  "It's  mesilf 
thot  wur  chated,  an'  thot's  not  aisy." 

"You  are  a  shrewd  little  girl,"  declared  Frank ;  "and  you 
are  dead  lucky  to  escape  with  your  life  after  getting 
Miller's  bullet.  But  Miller  won't  trouble  you  more." 

Mrs.  Kenyon  rose  and  went  into  the  hut,  while  Bar 
ney  lazily  strolled  down  to  the  creek,  leaving  Frank  and 
Kate  alone. 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  he  was  coming  back,  the  Irish  lad 
heard  Kate  saying : 

"I  know  I'm  igerent,  an'  I'm  not  fitten  fer  any  educated 
man.  Still,  you  an'  I  is  friends,  Frank,  an'  friends  we'll 
allus  be." 

"Friends  we  will  always  be,"  said  Frank,  softly. 

After  this  little  more  was  said. 

It  was  not  long  before  our  friends  left  the  locality,  this 
time  bound  for  Oklahoma,  Utah  and  California.  What 
Frank's  adventures  were  in  those  places  will  be  told  in 
another  volume,  entitled,  "Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery." 

"We  are  well  out  of  that,"  said  Frank,  as  they  jour 
neyed  away.  "Am  I  not  right,  Barney?" 

"Sure,  Frankie,  sure!"  was  Barney's  answer.  "To  tell 
the  whole  thruth,  me  b'y,  ye're  nivver  wrong,  nivver!" 

And   Barney  was  right,  eh,  reader? 


THE  END. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS " 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu 
larity  accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding-,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(i) 


THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

Donald  Grayson's  Famous 
Motor  Stories  for  Boys  v* 

Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven 
tures  with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
cycles,  automobiles,  aeroplanes  and  submarines. 

You  may  readily  see  what  a  vast  field  for  adventures 
Mr.  Grayson  has  chosen. 

Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 

BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 

BOB  STEELE  FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 

BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 

BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 

BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 

BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 

BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 

BOB  STEELE'S  LAST  FLIGHT 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  SO  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
st^r"nS  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary  War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 

The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 
boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
patriotic  enthusiasm. 

We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.  Read  the  first  and 
you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.  I2mo.  Cloth,  handsomely 
bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.    By  Lieut.  Loun«berry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

"OLD  PUT  "  THE  PATRIOT.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.    By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.    By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  1812.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkisi. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  William  Murray  Graydon. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  is  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  houesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse.  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  cannot  fail  to  win  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S    MINE,  or  THE  BOY  WHO   GOT  THERE.     By  Lieut. 

Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING   IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.    By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

BY 

STANLEY  NORRIS  VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  who  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  p«ep  "  behind  the  scenes  "  of  the  great  white  canvas  ?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL    THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST     RING.      By 

Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  or  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG   SHOWMAN'S    PLUCK,   or   AN   UNKNOWN    RIDER   IN   THE 

RING.    By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE  BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.    By  Victor 

St.  Clair.  . 

Price,  6O  eents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  story  of  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  name  and  fortune. 

ERIC  DANE. — Interesting  experiences  of  a  boy  of  means. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY. — How  an  energetic  boy  cleared  his  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS   FORTUNE.— An  extremely  interesting  story  of  a  £200,000 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interesting  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 
THE  YOUNG  EDITOR.— Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Win.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.    By  Brooks  McCormick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN    SEARCH    OF   AN    UNKNOWN    RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 
By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orton. 

The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of  a  submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


THE  ANNAPOLIS  SERIES 

By  ENSIGN  CLARKE  FITCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
thoroughly  familiar  with  all  naval  matters.  Mr.  Fitch  has 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of 
books  for  boys  that  every  young  American  should  read.  His 
stories  are  full  of  interesting  information  about  the  navy, 
training  ships,  etc. 

BOUND  FOR  ANNAPOLIS,  or  The  Trials  of  a  Sailor  Boy. 
CLIP,  THE  NAVAL  CADET,  or  Exciting  Days  at  Annapolis. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TRAINING  SHIP,  or  Clif  Faraday's 
Pluck. 

FROM  PORT  TO  PORT,  or  Clif  Faraday  in  Many  Waters. 
A  STRANGE  CRUISE,  or  Clif  Faraday's  Yacht  Chase. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

THE  WEST  POINT  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
West  Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject 
could  be  found  than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes 
the  life,  adventures  and  unique  incidents  that  have  occurred 
in  that  great  institution — in  these  famous  West  Point  stcries. 

OFF  FOR  WEST  POINT,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Struggle. 
A  CADET'S  HONOR,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Heroism. 
ON  GUARD,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Celebration. 

THE  WEST  POINT  TREASURE,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strange 
Find. 

THE  WEST  POINT  RIVALS,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strategem. 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(6) 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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